


Impact Zone

by fabuloustrix



Category: Merlin (TV), Newcastle (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beach, Alternate Universe - Surfers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood and Gore, Dream Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Magic Revealed, Major Character Injury, Original Character Death(s), Reincarnation, Roof Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:17:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9477233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabuloustrix/pseuds/fabuloustrix
Summary: The basic plot of the angsty surfer boy film Newcastle, but with the characters and magic of Merlin! Absolutely ridiculous, I know, but if you've seen the movie, it's a little too perfect a fit. I couldn't resist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is very silly and very inadequately revised/edited, but I hope you enjoy it. I did have someone beta this about a YEAR ago, but the changes made afterward were so extreme, their hard work was basically disregarded. I am the worst. I would, however, love any constructive criticism, particularly on story/character/description elements that do and do not work. Also, I apologize sincerely to any Australians or surfers who read this. I did my best, but I am sure that is still not very good. Thanks for reading!!! 
> 
> P.S. I love our fandom and our fic writers and readers and I will keep contributing my silly lil crackfics until there's nobody left who cares to read them. :)

_Merlin held back a sob and wiped the blood off his mouth. He tried to push the tumult of his magic through his palms where they gripped Arthur’s motionless shoulders. If there were ever a time for this to be a gift, it was now. He thought they had probably hurt him getting him into the truck, but whatever they’d done had to be better than the alternative. It was still a forty minute drive to the hospital. Gwen shouted Merlin’s name and he leaned down once more to breathe for Arthur._

 

“Glassy as,” Will said, turning to Merlin with a grin.

This early in the morning, their stretch of beach was still quiet. The singular peace of a seaside sunrise settled deep into Merlin’s bones. It was views like this that kept him coming back to Newcastle every summer despite the drawbacks of being a surf store slave. He half-grinned back at Will, wondering why he’d been brought along after the rough few weeks they’d had.

“It’s lucky there’s no wind this early,” he said.

Will looked at him sidelong. “Lucky, is it?”

“Can you predict the weather now?”

Will sighed and shook his head. The grin was gone. “Just keep a score going for me, yeah?”

“You woke me up and dragged me out here to keep score?” Merlin felt their old easiness slipping away again.

Will looked out across the waves and shrugged. “Be weird to ask any of the guys.”

The Guys. Will’s surfing friends. Couldn’t ask one of them to keep a practice score just before the big competition. The group were about to go head-to-head in a trial for the Holy Grail: spots on a sponsored team.

Merlin pushed his hands deep into his pockets and squinted out at the cargo barges at anchor just offshore. He never saw them moving, but they were never in the same place day to day. One of many things Merlin found impossible to keep track of. “Guess that’s the only time I’m good for anything,” he said.

“Yeah, well, I guess both of us get to feel cast aside every once in a while,” Will said, stalking off toward the water.

“Will,” Merlin called. Will didn’t turn. “Will, what the fuck?”

Will made a rude gesture in return and Merlin looked around. There was still nobody else out, but there would be soon, even mid-week as it was. Newcastle was like that. The beach was a priority for a lot of people. Merlin made a frustrated noise.

“I’ll keep your stupid score then,” he shouted, as Will began to wade out past the breakers.

Merlin sat down hard on the sand, locking his arms loosely around his knees. They’d made a mess again and Merlin knew that this time it was his fault. With them, it rarely was, but this morning Will had chucked a pillow at Merlin’s snoring head before dawn after two weeks of inexplicable, sullen silence, and Merlin had promptly gone and pissed him off again. Somehow. They’d had fights before but never like this, never one that lasted more than a day or two. Just stupid things. Things boys get in heated, idiotic scuffs over. Things to shout about, not quiet things that drove invisible wedges between them.

Merlin watched Will paddle out and wondered when his best friend had had the time to become such a douchey, driven athlete. Or perhaps, Merlin mused, where he’d been hiding it all their lives. They’d grown up in almost exactly the same environment: homes right next door to each other in a decaying suburb, same primary school, single working mothers, and only occasional visits to the beach. So where had this side of Will been sleeping? It was bizarre to think that his pro-surfer dad had had anything to do with the person he was becoming, but reconciling with your father on his deathbed apparently had great repercussions. Like uprooting your entire plan for the future.

Unfortunately, the common denominator between this new, ambitious Will and Merlin’s lifelong friend was a certain volatility under pressure. The chances of breaking into surfing were time-sensitive, and at 18 years old, Will was coming into the race late. The trial the next morning was Will’s only chance to get on a team for the championship, and it had been a tough road getting this far despite Uther Pendragon’s willingness to give the son of an old friend a chance. It was apparent in the set of his shoulders and the clench of his jaw that the stress weighed heavily on him. But for two weeks now, he’d said nothing of it.

In the past, Merlin had shared enough of Will’s life that they could relate to each other’s issues. They’d always been there for each other late at night when fear or uncertainty kept them awake, whether it was climbing through each other’s bedroom windows at home or phone calls from St. Andrew’s College to the dingy apartment above Pendragon Surf. But suddenly Merlin was an outsider. Sure, he worked at Pendragon Surf while Will was vying for their sponsorship, but outside of that they seemed to have nothing in common. As soon as Merlin had arrived at the end of term to share said apartment once again, Will treated Merlin’s presence as not only unnecessary, but a nuisance. Merlin had alternated between trying to give him space and being extremely pissed off in return. But this morning, Will had reached out. And Merlin, true to form, had blown it.

He’d been stupid all along, Merlin realized. Too hurt by Will’s cold shoulder to realize Will was hurting in more ways than one. Merlin had tried, really, to keep in touch from school. But he’d been so busy, and eventually homework and new friends and activities had all but ended his frequent calls home. And then he’d just shown up here like always, expecting things to snap back into sync.

Merlin looked down the beach. The sun was well up now, and people were starting to arrive. He hoped none of the guys came by, he wanted to actually talk when Will came out of the water. Will executed a particularly nice aerial and Merlin waved two enthusiastic thumbs up. Will ignored him and paddled out again. Merlin tried to envision how he could phrase an apology so that Will wouldn’t bat away the sentimentality of it.

“Look guys, it’s Girly Merly,” sneered a deep voice behind him. Merlin closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. All hopes of getting to talk to Will evaporated.

“Here to play cheerleader, Merly Girl?” asked the voice, above him now. Merlin looked up at Ector, the ex-pro surfer who’d taken it upon himself to mentor Will. “Too bad you ain’t his type, sweetheart.”

Merlin balled his fists, fighting down his anger. He counted to ten, and tried to breathe. He said nothing lest he be attacked, or worse, discovered for a freak.

“Watch how a real man does it,” Ector said, jogging on, flanked by his cronies. And wasn’t that just like these surfing assholes? Making homophobic remarks and then saying something homoerotic themselves? Merlin asked himself, for the thousandth time, why he’d bothered coming back to Newcastle this time.

In the wake of the trio, the sand trembled and began to bubble as if molten. Merlin cursed. His nails began to cut into his palms with effort, and the sand was infinite infinitesimal granules once more.

Merlin reached up and tugged absently on the purple stripe in his hair. Ector and his friends seemed to take it, and his band t-shirts, and his tight jeans, and the way he stood, and the way he spoke, as an admission of a specific kind of guilt. A kind of guilt that they found particularly disgusting and yet always alluded to. Merlin would have taken anybody coming between him and Will over these assholes.

Unsurprisingly, Will waited in the water for Ector to reach him. They talked for a moment and went back to surfing. Merlin hunched himself down as far as possible, trying to become a black speck on the beach instead of the gangly liability Will seemed to see him as. Evidently he succeeded, as Will and his new friends drifted farther and farther up the beach, leaving him behind. Merlin watched them as the beach began to fill in with people, holding onto the ghost of a hope that Ector might go elsewhere, or Will might finish up first. He checked his watch every few minutes until work would wait for him no longer, and finally gave up.

As Merlin stood, his anger flared again. In front of him, a cyclone sprang up and began to grow, whipping his face with sand. He flinched but got a hold of himself quickly this time. The cyclone dispersed. He looked around, his heart pounding, but nobody was near enough to have seen. For that was the other thing that had changed dramatically in the last few weeks. Merlin had found that he possessed – and there was no other word for it, as ridiculous as it sounded – magic.

It had uncoiled itself slowly from some dark recess of Merlin’s insides on his first day at work this summer. There was nothing new or special about such a day, as he’d been coming to work at Pendragon Surf on school breaks for a few years now. Merlin could not for the life of him puzzle out what change in his life could have a) unlocked magic powers or b) driven him to a prolonged psychotic break. He was fairly certain it was not the latter, as he’d found that he could affect real change on his physical surroundings. But as it had become quite handy with little tasks, he’d chosen to ignore any grander questions about the whole thing and simply try to do his best with it.

In other words, he did what his mother would have told him to do if he’d been able to call her up and say, “I have magic. Help,” without sounding like a loon.

At times such as now, however, his magic simply reacted. To circumstances, to strong feelings, and sometimes, it seemed, to nothing at all. He’d been getting better at containing it in these moments, but it was still best to remove any possible cause. Merlin brushed sand off the cargo shorts he wore for work and tried to think of anything other than idiot friends or his idiotic magic. He hadn’t quite come up with a new line of thought when he turned around a low wall into the parking lot and came across the Pendragon Surf truck itself.

“Lin!” called one of the younger boys who worked in the shop. He was unloading boards from the covered bed of the truck, surrounded by Pendragon sponsored surfers.

“Yeah Pete?” Merlin answered from where he stood. He thought it best to keep his distance from the frenetic mass of young men, having only just gotten his magic under control. They were slapping each other and laughing, chasing each other about as they usually did. Merlin was used to them and their antics, but was still torn between intense scorn and grudging admiration.

 “Come here, I’ve got something from Gaius for you,” Pete replied just as Merlin’s eye caught on Arthur Pendragon, positively glowing in the morning sun. Merlin was decidedly not used to the sight of him.

 _Why do surfers never wear shirts?_ Merlin wondered yet again as he kept his eyes firmly on the lettering on the side of the truck. _And why do their board shorts sit so low?_ He generally thought of them as the beautiful, stupid children of the sea. Alluring, but dangerous, and ultimately not worth mooning over. But Arthur? Jesus. He was in another class. Ten times more beautiful and ten times more annoying.

Merlin tried to keep his mind clear as he entered the ring of young men, catching a few errant pats and slaps as he did. Laughter and shouting was punctuated with shouts of, “Lin!” “How’s it hangin’?” “Lin Tin Tin!” Gaius had made the executive decision, when Merlin had started helping him out at Pendragon Surf, to introduce him around as Lin. Merlin had to agree it was easier than dealing with the jokes surfers would inevitably come up with, but that made him hate it no less. Still, some of them clearly viewed him as some sort of mascot which, though not ideal, was better than how Ector and some of the older surfers looked at him.

Pete had gone into the cab of the truck, so Merlin stood awkwardly by the bed, arms crossed over his chest. He stared resolutely up at the clouds, squinting, trying to look like he was measuring the weather for Important Surfing Reasons.

“Cool necklace,” said a voice next to him.

Merlin only just stopped himself from jumping back and clinging to the tailgate as his magic clawed up his spine, threatening to drag him under, into some dark, golden place he’d never been and never wanted to go. He managed to pass it off as a startled flinch, but it was a near thing. His every muscle was tight with the strain of staying in control, keeping a lid on the molten gold that sloshed uneasily against his ribs.

He hadn’t yet heard the low, smooth sound of Arthur Pendragon’s adult voice, but that was no reason for his magic to behave so erratically. There were plenty of blokes like him that Merlin appreciated from a distance. But his magic seemed to either particularly hate Arthur or to love him. The reaction was so violent that Merlin couldn’t tell. His mind scrambled to catch up with Arthur’s words.

“Uh, thanks,” Merlin said. The small, stylized dragon he wore was normally hidden beneath his shirt, but it had come untucked somehow. Merlin usually forgot he even wore it, as he’d put it on every morning for as long as he could remember. It was a warm, calming presence, reminding him of home. “Gaius gave it to me when I was a kid.”

Arthur smiled, and Merlin did a double take before turning entirely away under the guise of checking Pete’s progress. “Didn’t remember seeing it before. That makes it even cooler,” Arthur said. Merlin nodded mutely, opting to breathe and practice aggressive calmness at his magic rather than speak.

Finally, Pete emerged. “Here,” he said, handing Merlin a slip of paper with a list of errands on it. “Said he doesn’t mind you coming in a bit late so long as you get these done.”

“Yeah, got it,” Merlin said. “Thanks.” He risked a last glimpse of Arthur as he walked away, and immediately regretted it. He hated being caught looking, and from the first day they’d met, Arthur seemed to do nothing but catch him. Merlin cursed the open atmosphere he’d gotten used to at school. One could not simply ogle the surfers in this town. People noticed. People talked. And Merlin already stood out enough.

Gaius’s morning tasks went by quickly, from picking up extra register tape to buying more coffee for the break room, and as the older historic buildings blended seamlessly into the squat, colorful structures native to any beach town, Merlin found himself enjoying the walk. The air was crisp instead of humid, the atmosphere was as laid back as it ever was, and it’d been a long time since he’d had a morning to himself in Newcastle. He’d dearly missed the people-watching. It gave him moments outside of himself, and almost always gave him perspective. It got him closer to the understanding sort of kindness that came easily to his mother, and which he tried and tried to achieve.

When he’d checked off every item on the list, Merlin took a seat on a bench for a moment. If he’d been at work, he’d have been due for a break anyway, so he didn’t even have to feel bad about taking the liberty. He peered around at the extra bustle that always layered atop the city’s natural ambiance before big surfing competitions. It wasn’t that anybody was really in any hurry, it was just the sheer volume of extra people that changed the face of the streets. Most were tourists, many were press and PR, but the most interesting few were surfers and their supporters. Not that Merlin considered international athletes inherently more worthy of note than others, but this close to an event? These were always the people whose energy excited him. And now his magic showed him how their very molecules spun faster.

He spotted a vaguely familiar face exiting a rival surf shop on a nearby corner, and knew she must be one of them. It wasn’t even her face that gave her away, rather it was her demeanor. She was talking calmly with the shop owner, but kinetic anticipation came off her in waves. The shop owner walked away from her abruptly, and she threw her hands in the air. She paced a moment and leaned against a wall, supporting her head with one hand. Merlin cringed internally. Bad news this close to the meet? That was next-level rough. But then another woman, shorter than the first, emerged from the shop and spotted her. The embraced for a long moment, swaying slightly as the smaller woman gently rubbed the other’s back. Merlin smiled at the bittersweet moment before his thoughts turned inward again.

Really, it wasn’t Will’s fault he’d turned into such a dickhead. Not entirely. Merlin had left him high and dry when he’d needed support the most. And now Merlin, with all this magic business, needed Will and didn’t have him. He couldn’t let himself keep feeling only bitterness. He had to fix them, somehow. They needed each other, like they always had.

Merlin glanced back at the two women on the corner. The disappointed surfer was laughing at something her friend had said. Merlin sighed and nodded to himself as he stood. He’d figure it out. After work.

Back at the shop, the day was hectic. With only a little over a week until the championship, work volume was at its most desperate. Merlin lost himself in the madness for a while, helping not only pros and hopefuls but tourists in town for the show. There wasn’t a moment’s pause until mid-afternoon, just as Will and his friends came in.

Merlin couldn’t pull a nasty, childish face as he was helping an older woman pick out a gift for her grandson, but he wished he could. Will and the other Pendragon Surf hopefuls for the year – Arthur, Lance, Gwaine, and Elyan – crowded their ever-shirtless, effortlessly conceited way into the shop and up to the counter. Merlin’s magic gave a great lurch, as if trying to knock him to the ground. He steadied himself on a rack of Pendragon branded t-shirts and tried to focus on his customer.

The boys talked and laughed loudly, lazy and carefree after a day on the beach, acting like they owned the place – which for Arthur was actually the case. Merlin didn’t mind keeping them waiting. The added annoyance of his raving magic was one he was beginning to subconsciously blame on Arthur, and his presence made him petulant. Once the woman had decided, he walked her up to the register himself, studiously ignoring all five of the boisterous young men gathered there.

“Thank you, I hope you have a good trip,” Merlin said to the woman with a smile.

“No, sweetheart, thank you,” she answered as she bustled away.

Merlin turned to the boys. “Yes?”

“No need to be so cold, _sweetheart_ ,” said Gwaine, smirking himself silly. Merlin’s saccharine grin dropped. He wouldn’t be hearing the end of that any time soon. But Gwaine was harmless. Mostly.

“Uh-huh, what is it?” Merlin said, eyes on the ceiling.

Elyan cleared his throat, and Merlin turned to him attentively. He could actually look at Elyan; he was somehow a sweet kid, despite the rowdy berks he ran with. “My new board?” he said. “Gaius said it’d be finished this afternoon so I could get a bit of practice in on it tomorrow.”

Merlin frowned. “Let me check,” he said. Why all five of them needed to know about Elyan’s board was beyond him. They traveled in senseless packs.

Out back in repairs he saw Elyan’s board. It leaned in the corner of the shed, still pale and dusty from shaping.

“George,” Merlin called to the man in whose corner the board stood. “What’s the status on that one?”

George shrugged and grunted, not pausing his sander. Merlin rolled his eyes. It was the older men in this entire surfing business, he’d come to see long ago, who would never come close to treating him like a human. Not so long as he dressed and carried himself the way he did. But he’d long since decided that was their problem.

“Gaius made a promise,” Merlin shouted over the deafening buzz of tools. “That one’s next.” George didn’t acknowledge him, but Merlin knew he wouldn’t put Gaius’s word in danger.

Back inside, Merlin hated to dash Elyan’s hopes. He was the youngest of the boys trying that Friday, and he had a real chance at one of the four spots.

“Sorry Elyan,” Merlin said, grimacing. All five of the boys began to fidget. Elyan was their friend, but his loss was still their gain. Arthur draped his arm across Elyan’s shoulders and jostled him consolingly. “High volume this week, and somehow it got passed off to George,” Merlin finished. Elyan’s face became a mask of worry. George was notoriously slow.

Merlin pressed his fingers to his forehead, holding in a sigh. “It’ll be done, but not till after midnight. Come as early as you like tomorrow, it’ll be here.”

Elyan nodded, his face unchanged. “Okay,” he said. He was clearly calculating when he would need to go to bed to wake up at the crack of dawn fully rested. Merlin wanted to tell him to stop stressing out about it, but he knew there was no point. The only two of them with guaranteed spots were Arthur and Gwaine. The rest were a free-for-all between three boys of about equal skill, but vastly differing stakes.

For Will, this was it. If he couldn’t make a splash at this competition, there would be no more chances. Lance might get a sponsor based on family influence and the few local titles he’d won, but Will was a nobody. Elyan was a nobody as well, but at his age he had time to build a reputation.

“Don’t psych yourself out,” Merlin eventually said. Elyan managed a half-hearted smile in return.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Arthur said, giving Elyan a noogie.

“No worries, mate,” said Gwaine, punching him in the arm. They all patted him on the back in varying degrees of sincerity as they shuffled out.

“Will, can I talk to you?” Merlin called. It was a long shot, but after his realization that Will needed him as much as he did Will, he felt the need to try. He didn’t want to leave things broken for too long.

Will stopped. “What about?” he said.

Merlin chewed his lip, not knowing what to say in front of the others. “The…electric bill.” They lived above the shop. They didn’t have an electric bill.

Will made a face. “Later,” he said, shaking his head. He turned to go. Merlin didn’t dare corner him into some kind of display of masculinity.

Arthur caught Merlin looking again, just as the five of them stepped outside. Merlin’s ears and throat burned and his magic crackled at his fingertips. It was like flirting, but dangerous and one-sided and awful. He was an adult now, it was embarrassing that he should be crushing on any of these macho athlete types. More than that, it might endanger his job or Gaius’s respectability if somebody got worked up about him looking too long. It had never been a spoken issue, but this was the only place left in Merlin’s life where he would have been uncomfortable coming out. So, out of disinterest as well as caution, he never, ever looked too long. Except, it seemed, when Arthur Pendragon was in the room.

 

After the shop closed that night, Merlin stole down from the place he shared with Will. He’d had a sinking hunch since that afternoon, and had been pacing his little rooftop hideaway considering it. He opened the door that led out to the repair shack and sighed. Elyan’s board lay on the sawhorse, unfinished. Merlin rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms and got to work.

It had been a while since he’d worked strictly out back, but he hadn’t forgotten what Gaius had taught him. Whenever the storefront was empty he would come out and lend a hand until the bell on the door rang, and he’d worked out a few tricks since his magic had appeared. Sometimes when he couldn’t sleep, he came out here instead. He told himself this was no different. Tools in hand, he fell into the balance between artistry, monotony, and challenge. Once he’d finished Elyan’s board he found he didn’t want to go up and face the vast emptiness that yawned between him and his best friend. It couldn’t possibly widen in the space of one night, and if he said something wrong it might put Will off his game for the trial. He set the next board on the sawhorse and kept working, losing track of time.

It was while he was sweating with concentration on using his magic to color match a resin repair that he was interrupted.

“So is that gonna last or do I have to go back and void my warranty on all your jobs?” Gaius said.

Merlin jumped. His Uncle Gaius was standing in the door to the storefront with his hands clasped in front of him. Today his signature shorts sported a tiki pattern, which contrasted madly with the stern eyebrow he was raising. Merlin thought for a panicked moment of lying, but this was Gaius. He’d always been terrible at lying to Gaius.

Merlin stood up straight. “It’ll last,” he said. Certain times he finished a task with his magic, he felt something shift and settle into place with an inexorable finality. He knew somehow that these things were permanent. It scared him when he thought about it too much. “Whenever it feels wrong, I do it over the way you taught me.”

Gaius nodded. “That’s alright then,” he said. He turned to go.

“Wait,” Merlin said. “That’s it?”

Gaius turned back. “What else do you want?”

“I dunno,” said Merlin. “A little shock and awe? A mob with pitchforks? So far the only person who’s found me out seems to be taking it better than I am.”

Gaius sighed. “Let’s just say it wasn’t so unexpected.”

Merlin felt himself go still. “What does that mean?”

“I’ve always known there was something to all of Uther’s ravings. Well, maybe not all,” he said, twisting his mouth. “But certain things in life are meant to be. And then, when you were a kid, that turned up,” he said, pointing to Merlin’s necklace. The tiny dragon felt warm against Merlin’s shirt, and he resisted the urge to reach up and touch it. It had come untucked again.

“Uther? Gaius, you’re not making sense. You gave this to me.” Yet Merlin clutched at the sawhorse in front of him, as if the earth might tilt at any moment.

Gaius looked at him for a moment. “Leave that,” he said, pointing to the board. “Come along to my house for a cuppa.”

“Gaius, you can’t –”

“Gaius I can,” Gaius shot back. “Come on.”

Merlin let out a frustrated breath and hurried after him, following across the side alley into his squat, blue house. Gaius went to the kitchen and ordered Merlin into one of his kitschy vinyl dining chairs before busying himself with the tea. Merlin stared at his back, tapping a finger on the table. While the kettle boiled, Gaius disappeared deeper into the house. He returned just as it whistled.

“Here,” he said, setting an old, well-used textbook on the table. “You know Uther’s little obsession?”

“Yeah…” Merlin said. He knew that the bigger Pendragon Surf had grown as a worldwide company, the more eccentric Uther had become. It was obvious to anybody who followed local competition that the man was slightly unhinged. He’d chosen which surfers to sponsor based not only on skill but on name. His surfing teams were an odd little recreation of the Knights of the Round Table, centered on his star athlete and only child, Arthur. Then, to really drive his point home, he’d named the team the Newcastle Knights. Merlin had only met Uther once in passing, but the man had honestly scared the shit out of him. Eccentricity and an imposing demeanor were not an inviting combination.

“This was one of the books for that history and lit course Uther and I met in, years ago,” Gaius said. “Everyone thinks his wife’s death drove him mad, but I knew him when she passed. It was awful, of course. The grief was awful. But I don’t think it broke him – I think it woke something up. He started studying everything he could find on the Matter of Britain so he could recreate the circumstances of King Arthur’s ascent to the throne. He wanted to harness the inexorable power of destiny, he said. Big words for a beach bum, I know. But he loved his son. More than anything. He wanted nothing but greatness for him, and he wanted to ride King Arthur’s coattails to the top. A mad task, I’ll allow, but not entirely without basis…”

As he spoke, he flipped through the pages of the book until he found the page he wanted. He spun it around so Merlin could see, and pointed to a picture on one of the glossy pages. Merlin just stared at him, arms crossed and eyes wide.

“Is this a joke?” he asked. He didn’t know which would be worse, Gaius making fun of him or Gaius actually believing any of this.

Gaius arched that dangerous eyebrow once more. “A joke? Are you joking? Merlin, how many people do you know who could catch you at doing magic and let it fly? Hmm?”

Merlin shifted uncomfortably.

“Exactly. So either I’m mad, I trust you, or I have some prior knowledge. In the first case, you’re probably going off your head too. So let’s just bypass that option, shall we? The next time you feel the urge to ask a stupid question, don’t. Trust me. And listen. Look here,” he said, indicating the picture once more.

Merlin pursed his lips and leaned in to look. It was of a round, golden object which was embossed with geometric designs and encrusted with red stones. A slice was missing from one side, but the design felt familiar despite the object’s age. Merlin squinted, and it clicked into place in his mind: four dragons in a circle, each one of them identical to the one that hung from his neck. He leaned over farther to read the description: “Welsh brooch, gold, circa 5c.”

Something large and disused stirred inside him, behind the place from which his magic had first emerged. Shaken, he sat back and looked up at Gaius. “Okay.”

“I didn’t give you that dragon,” Gaius said.

Merlin cleared his throat. “So? Mum found it in one of her new agey shops then.”

Gaius was shaking his head. “You found it one day, playing in the sand on the beach. I was there. You were both visiting one last time before you started primary school. I can still see you running up to show it to us. You wanted to be an archaeologist for about six months after that. Drink your tea.”

Merlin drank, his heart beating hard. He remembered that phase.

“It was only about two years later I stumbled on this, reminiscing with Uther,” Gaius continued. “I had a man at the university take a look at your necklace the next time you visited. Turns out it’s ancient. Fifth or sixth century, to be exact.”

Merlin shook his head. “That – I don’t – so? So what? So I found some weird old thing in the sand, big deal.”

Gaius’s expression was shrewd. “And now Arthur Pendragon is hanging out with his best friends Lance and Gwaine, and oh look! Merlin the Wizard has arrived.” He leaned back, folding his hands on the table. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“No, it’s not a coincidence,” Merlin said. His magic slithered around in his stomach. “Uther engineered all of that.”

“Magic, Merlin? Did Uther engineer you? This?” Gaius said. “Believe what you like, but some things are simply meant to be.”

“Like what? What about my life could possibly be that…important? I don’t believe in this – this destiny crap, or whatever you’re saying, alright? It’s not a gift it’s a – a fluke of nature.” Merlin hadn’t spoken to Gaius so rudely since his early teens. His face was burning, but he found he couldn’t stop. “Simply meant to be what? To be some old bearded guy in a robe, in this day and age? What’s Arthur supposed to be king of, anyway? What’s the point?” His eyes stung, and he fought the urge to cry, which only confused him further. Why should he be so upset?

“Sometimes, Merlin,” Gaius said, looking into his mug, “young people can forget the most important things in life. If destiny’s at work I don’t think it’d bother with clothes and beards or even heroic deeds. I think it’d focus on what matters.”

Merlin just stared at him.

“People, Merlin!” Gaius shouted suddenly. Merlin jumped, his knee bumping the underside of the table painfully. “The people you spend your life with! Your friends, your family. Some people, you’re meant to be with.”

Merlin couldn’t remember the last time Gaius had raised his voice. He hadn’t been anything but quietly proud of Merlin in a long, long time. They had clearly struck upon some long-percolating idea that Gaius thought important. Merlin began to think about it, but remembered Will and shook his head. “Sounds like a lot of bother for some mates,” he said.

Gaius tipped his shaggy head to the side and nodded. “It is indeed. That’s the way of things. But if destiny had any part in bringing me close your mother and you, it was more than worth it.”

Merlin was startled once more, and his magic settled to a warm quietude. Gaius never said such things out loud. For a moment, he just looked at this old man who’d half raised him and wondered what he’d done to deserve such a wonderful stand-in for a father. Or such a mother, come to think of it. Maybe, Merlin allowed, destiny or whatever had been at work the day Gaius had become friends with his mum, back when she’d been Merlin’s age. And maybe, if there really was something to all of this, it was trying to help mend his friendship with Will. It was an oddly comforting thought. For the first time in weeks, Merlin felt a wide smile split his face. “You old sap,” he said, “I’m leaving before you start to cry.”

“Bah,” Gaius said, getting up to put away the tea things. “Get on with you. Get back to work and leave an old man to his feelings. Oh,” he said, turning back. “I’m going out of town to visit a factory tomorrow. House sit for me, won’t you? I’ll be gone till Sunday.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said as he got up. Somehow, even after such a strange conversation, he felt lighter. “Four days to myself, ‘course I will.”

 

The next night Merlin was alone in Gaius’s house, feeling uncharacteristically quiet. The few times he’d house sat before he’d played his guitar loudly to Gaius’s old records and swanned around the house like a fool, pretending he owned it. It was nice, having personal space. He made the most of it. Tonight, however, Merlin was pensive. He went into Gaius’s little study and scanned the rows of books lining the walls. About a third of them were about British legends.

He sat in the old leather chair behind Gaius’s desk. You’d think a scholar of some sort lived in this room, not an old beach bum, as he called himself. But Gaius had always been a multi-faceted man. Merlin wondered if the Uther Pendragon of the 5th century had had a Gaius, and what he’d been like. Probably he’d been a lot like the man who should have owned such a study. Merlin shivered. It was getting late and he had a double shift in the shop the next day, making up for Gaius’s absence. He decided to just go to bed.

As he lay down in Gaius’s spare room, he had a thought. Instead of taking the necklace off as he had every night for as long as he could remember, he left it on. He didn’t know why he always took it off anyway, and if it was connected to his magic, maybe something interesting would happen.

A few hours later, Merlin began to sob in his sleep.

 

With a start, Merlin opened his eyes. The sun was streaming in through his window, and his alarm was loud. He shut it off and rolled onto his back. He was absolutely exhausted. For a few uneven breaths, he couldn’t remember why. And then the dreams came flooding back, as vivid as any memory. A campfire in a forest surrounded by eerie, older versions of Lance, Gwaine, Arthur, Elyan, and others. Gaius in red linen robes, leaning over him, worried. A vaguely familiar Black woman brandishing a sword. A dragon attacking a great castle, and a dark-haired woman crying on her knees amid stony rubble. Both of these last, Merlin felt, were his fault.

But worse than these, far worse, was Arthur. Pale and bruised, dying slowly in his arms.

Merlin leapt out of bed and fumbled the necklace off, but neither the images nor the pain faded. He went to splash cold water on his face and blared music as he got dressed, anything to distract his aching mind. He hurried to the shop and opened it 15 minutes early, busying his hands until the other staff came in and he could leave to drive the Pendragon Surf truck down to the beach himself for the trial. But before he left he ran back into Gaius’s house and slipped his necklace back over his head. He wouldn’t sleep in it again, but he couldn’t help feeling naked without it.

 

“Hey Merlin, little help here?” Gwaine was the first back to the truck. Merlin hopped out.

            “Where’s Will?” he asked, taking Will’s surfboard off the struggling Gwaine. Merlin hadn’t gotten out of the truck when they’d come for their boards before the trial, and it was strange now to see the face from his dream so much younger. And tanner.

            Gwaine shrugged. “Kaye wanted to talk to him. Dunno why he handed his board off to me though.”

            “Probably just too lazy to carry it,” Merlin said. Gwaine grinned at him. “D’you think he made the cut?”

            Gwaine’s grin disappeared. “I dunno. Three spots and you know Arthur’s got the first one.”

            Merlin paused, Will’s board half in the truck. “Three?”

Gwaine grimaced. “They cut the team spots way down this year.”

Merlin shoved Will’s board. “Shit,” he said. “Well, you’ve got the second, yeah, but the third? I thought it was up for grabs.”

            Gwaine shook his head. “It was but…Elyan’s improved a lot this year.”

            Merlin sighed. Elyan had learned fast, much faster than Will, but Will was stronger. More tenacious. And despite Will’s sour attitude of late, or perhaps because of it, Merlin had been hoping his oldest friend might actually get what he wanted. A spot might have brought back the old Will. But being cut from this competition roster was probably the death blow to Will’s potential surfing career, and maybe even to any hope of a return of the irreverent, carefree kid Merlin had spent most of his life depending on. He didn’t know what Will would do now.

“Sorry mate,” Gwaine said. “I hope he doesn’t get too nasty about it.”

            “Oh, he will,” Merlin said, putting Gwaine’s board on top of Will’s. “I’ll be walking on eggshells for months, at least.”

            “He can have my spot if it’ll shut him up,” said Arthur from behind Merlin.

            Merlin tried not to flinch as he edged out of Arthur’s way, wanting to run. The image of his bluish white face and closing eyes flashed across Merlin’s mind. He swallowed hard, putting a hand on the truck to steady himself as his magic did strange acrobatics. _Calm down_ , he told it. _You’re making it weird. It’s just a dream. He’s just a guy._

            Gwaine snorted. “Right, and tell your father what? ‘But dad he was just so _annoying_ , you understand, right?’”

            Arthur grinned. “Sounds good to me,” he said.

            Gwaine and Merlin both rolled their eyes. Uther would never let Arthur leave surfing. Especially not with his talent. But Arthur was always joking about it anyway, which tended to make Will madder than ever.

            As Merlin turned to escape into the cab, Will stomped over in a rage.

“Fucking bullshit,” he shouted. Merlin pulled a face. This had been his least favorite part of Will, growing up his best friend, and it was the part of him that lived on the surface now.

“Er,” Gwaine said, “what is?”

“Fucking Kaye didn’t put me on the roster,” Will raged, punching the truck. “Fucking bastard has it in for me.”

“Calm down mate,” this was Lance, the most easygoing of them. He clearly thought that since he hadn’t won a spot either, he was in the best place to calm Will down. He must’ve waited for Will and followed him, knowing this would happen. “Not everybody gets a spot, it’s just how it is.”

“But I deserved that spot,” Will spat, “unlike some people.”

“Don’t go taking it out on him,” said Arthur. Lance was his best friend.

There was a pause. “Sorry,” said Will. Arthur’s bad side was not the place to be. “Didn’t mean it that way.”

“You did,” Arthur said, “but we’ll move on. Just quit being a dickhead about it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Will said, his face clouded with anger still.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur said. His tone was casual, and it was a lie. Nothing pissed Arthur off more than people suggesting he got breaks because of his father. The opposite was true. Uther made everything more difficult for his golden son, trying to tease every last ounce of greatness from him. Even Merlin knew that.

“No, nothing, not that,” said Will, finally shocked out of his petulance. “You’re just so ridiculously good, you never had to worry about your spot, or about going places with it.”

“Speaking of going places,” Gwaine said, sensing Will’s mood change, “how ‘bout we go camping this weekend?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You joking? Kaye would murder us, it’s a week from the competition,” Arthur said.

“Will’s right, Kaye’s a bastard. So he doesn’t have to know,” Gwaine said. “We could take some girls, go up the coast, bring some brews…. It won’t hurt anybody’s chances on the day. Where’s Elyan?”

“His sister picked him up,” Lance said, for some reason trying very hard to look casual, and failing. “But that sounds good to me.”

“Merlin, wanna come?” Arthur said.

Merlin froze. He thought maybe he had hallucinated, or was having an out of body experience. The last time he’d been around Arthur was years ago, before his father had taken him on a world tour of surfing championships, apprenticing him to every great athlete that was still living. They’d barely been teenagers, and Arthur had been absolutely horrid. He’d treated Merlin like a lowly servant, not to be bothered with, if he’d acknowledged him at all. This year, it was obviously that Arthur had matured immensely, but this? What was this?

“Er…” he stalled, trying to process but coming up blank. Instinct told him to find an excuse, and quick. “Actually…”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Arthur said. His face brightened. “We could teach you to surf!”

“Yeah,” said Gwaine, “we keep saying you should learn, this would be perfect. Gaius’ll be over the moon. Come on. We’ll leave early tomorrow.”

Merlin looked around at them. They wore expressions of polite hopefulness, except Will, who was staring daggers. And that just could not continue. A weekend away could force Will to listen to him. This might be Merlin’s best chance to have it out with him, for better or for worse. Hopefully for the better.

“I guess it would be easier to pass it off if I came too,” Merlin said carefully. “We could say you just wanted to train away from the crowds, and I’m minding the boards. Gaius might let us have the truck.”

“Fine,” Will said, turning to go, “but if you tell Gaius what we’re doing, Kaye’ll have our asses for keeping the golden boys away.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and turned to drive the truck back. It wasn’t until he caught sight of Arthur in the rearview, throwing his head back to guffaw in a distinctly unattractive way that was actually irritatingly gorgeous, that Merlin’s magic saw fit to light up like a brush fire and remind him what an awful mistake he’d just made.

 

“Practice away from the crowds?” Gaius said. Merlin had waited until he’d done all his daily tasks beyond reproach to call Gaius and tell him about the camping trip. “Those boys love the crowds. It’s why they do it.”

Merlin grimaced. This was true. “Gwaine’s feeling a bit nervy…” Merlin started. But even in silence, Gaius was giving him his most withering of looks, eyebrow included. Merlin changed tactics. “Alright honestly, Will took the news hard and the guys thought it might be a good idea to get away from everything together if they’re going to stay friends.”

“Alright,” Gaius said, and Merlin knew Gaius had heard the implication of a threat to Merlin’s friendship with Will specifically. Which, if he were being honest with himself, Merlin knew wasn’t even a tactic. It was just true. Then Gaius raised his voice. “But be careful! Uther will have my job if you get Arthur injured before a meet. You know how he is about that boy.”

Merlin knew exactly how Uther was about that boy, and he was not about to engage that man’s wrath. He had always heard of Uther’s predisposition toward both rage and enthusiasm in veiled references from his mum and Gaius, but hadn’t understood the degree of his terrifying influence until he’d grown old enough to see the power he wielded in this city.

“Take the truck,” Gaius added. “We don’t want any of the boards dinged up.”

With that, Gaius said goodbye, and Merlin hung up with a sense of both elation and dread.

 

The next morning did not go as smoothly as planned. Merlin was up at the crack of dawn, bag packed and boards loaded before most of the city got up for breakfast on a Saturday. Will wasn’t a morning person, but by the time he’d gotten ready, Gwaine still hadn’t shown up.

The present four of them stood listlessly around the truck, hopeful he’d arrive soon. The sun was already high and bright, casting an odd flatness over the city. The heat was nearing incapacitating levels, and still Merlin was the only one who seemed even to own a shirt. He sat in the covered bed, trying not to kick his feet like a kid. Aside from his magic fading to a dull background roar, being around Arthur and the others for so long made him feel ridiculously young and old at the same time. He was equal parts intimidated and exasperated. They had ambition and drive whereas Merlin was working in his uncle’s shop on a break from his aimless go at university. Half of them came from money Merlin couldn’t even imagine. Not to mention every single one of them was fit as hell. On the other hand, outside of these qualities, they were idiots. Fuckboys, even. Immature assholes.

“Fucker’s always late,” Will said, kicking at a loose bit of gravel at the end of the driveway next to the shop. His mouth didn’t use to be so crass, but now, in overcompensation for his inferiority to the others, his was the rudest of all.

“Yeah, but there’s always a reason worth telling,” Lance said with half a grin. What he meant was, Gwaine was a more spectacular idiot than the rest of them. But it was almost noon. Even the ever-affable Lance was beginning to deflate.

“We’re losing daylight,” Will said, fidgeting. “When do we leave without him?”

“It was his idea.” Arthur said, shooting Will a dark look. “We’ll wait.”

Merlin had gotten roped in to helping in the shop with something by the time Gwaine finally showed.

“Merlin,” Gwaine called. “Come on, let’s go!”

Merlin hurried out to see what spectacle had Gwaine sounding so pleased, just in time to see him come strolling up the street, a girl on each arm and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Now how did I know you kids would fall short on the one thing this weekend needs?” Gwaine said.

“Hey Gwen,” Lance said to the girl on Gwaine’s left.

“Hi,” she said back, slightly shy. Lance was pretty. Merlin didn’t blame her.

“Girls aren’t things,” Merlin said, a little uncomfortable with the mood. Gwen’s smile widened.

“Too right,” she said. With a jolt, Merlin saw her in his mind’s eye, running a scarred man through with a sword. She’d been in his dreams that awful night. The other girl – Jess, Merlin thought – giggled, and he snapped out of it.

“What would you know about girls,” Will muttered next to him.

Merlin stiffened, trying not to make too much of the blow. Will had never come so close to outing him. Anywhere else, it wouldn’t have been an issue, but here? Will knew Merlin wanted to keep his private life to himself. Merlin felt sick as it occurred to him Will might have developed an issue with this part of who he was. To be fair, he probably hadn’t, but when Will was inclined to be nasty, he’d latch onto anything.

“Let me finish up in there and we’ll go,” Merlin said, leaving them to their heterosexuality. This was going to be a long weekend.

 

Later on, driving across seemingly endless white dunes, the day continued in its spectacularly crap direction. After an hour of driving, Jess, sitting in Gwaine’s lap in the passenger seat, leaned over and threw up all down Merlin’s shirt.

“Shit,” Merlin shouted, accompanied by similar cries from every other passenger in the car. “Fuck,” he said, cutting the engine and throwing himself out of the truck. It was all he could do to keep himself from throwing up too as he pulled the ruined shirt off. At least it hadn’t gotten on his shorts. He flapped the shirt ineffectually, and settled on using it to wipe off his hands.

“The hell, Merlin,” Will said, laughing. They’d all gotten out of the truck, and were staring at him now. “You look like a fucking plucked chicken or something. You work in a surf shop! Is this allowed?”

Merlin had made a point never to be shirtless in front of these beach people, these bronzed gods of surf. The dreaded effect was evident now, and “plucked chicken” was as accurate a description as any for his pale, skinny self. Trust Will to make a shitty situation worse.

“Shut up, Will,” Arthur said. “You okay, mate?”

Merlin nodded, still working to hold it back. He couldn’t look at Arthur, but felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He almost pulled away in anticipation of his magic, but it only buzzed dimly. “Yeah, I just…”

“Maybe I should drive,” Lance said. Merlin nodded gratefully. His head was swimming, and Lance was the nearest to responsible of them all. He wouldn’t crash Gaius’s truck, probably. Merlin looked at his disgusting shirt. He’d liked this one. He threw it to the dunes.

They all piled back in, and somehow Arthur’s muscled side ended up pressed along Merlin’s bare back, his arm across Merlin’s shoulders. It was a tight fit, the four of them back there, but Arthur was solid, and Merlin allowed himself to feel better for it. His magic was quiet, probably driven into submission by the nausea, which subsided soon. Gradually, they all ended up singing along to some stupid song on the radio, Arthur’s voice off-key and loud in his ear, and he couldn’t help smiling, despite everything. Smiling big.

“How you holding up, Merlin?” Gwen said from beside him, her eyes shining. Whether this was from the glow of late summer and loud music or some shared knowledge she was hinting at, Merlin couldn’t tell.

“Fine,” said Merlin, feeling bashful now. He was probably so damn obvious it was a joke.

Gwen looked between him and Arthur and smiled before looking away.

“We’re here,” Lance announced.

 _Thank god_ , Merlin thought. He bolted into the fresh air as quickly as he could.

 

Due to general shenanigans and buffoonery as well as extreme incompetence, it took several hours to set up their two tents and pile wood for a fire. When they were almost done, Will looked around as he tied off the last tent line.

“Gwaine, can you – hey, where’s Gwaine?” he said.

Lance looked around. “I dunno,” he said. The sun was setting. He shielded his eyes as he turned a circle, searching.

“Jess is gone too,” Arthur said. “They’re probably at the water.”

“Well let’s go then,” said Lance, grinning. He took Gwen’s hand and helped her up from where she’d been stuffing kindling beneath the firewood. They ran, laughing, between the dunes that sheltered their camp from the sea wind.

Arthur smacked Merlin’s stomach as he started off and Merlin flinched, trying to hold back an embarrassing giggle.  Faced with Arthur’s radiant smile in the fading gold of the day, Merlin’s magic made itself known again, rather violently. If this was going to be how it was, Merlin was just going to have to get used to it. He didn’t hesitate to follow.

They stopped where the sand turned slick at the high tide line, watching Lance and Gwen barrel into Gwaine’s shameless flirt fest, and laughing uncontrollably. The wind was picking up, and they all looked wild and vibrant against the muted after-sunset sky. Something smacked Merlin’s shoulder hard, and Will was flying past them, absolutely naked. He was shouting and laughing, making lewd gestures with his hands and hips. This set Arthur off laughing again, and Merlin couldn’t help but grin. Stupid and happy Will was better than sulky and venomous Will.

“Come on Merlin,” Arthur said, bending down. It was only when he straightened and ran off that Merlin realized he’d taken off his board shorts. Merlin blinked. That was Arthur Pendragon’s arse, stark naked and white beneath a tan line. It was a lot to take in.

Merlin shook himself and undid his belt. He didn’t want to end up ruining his shorts after their near miss in the truck. He couldn’t bring himself to take his boxers down with them, though. As he ran into the ocean, he was met with cries of, “Yeah, Merlin!” and other unintelligible things, and was absorbed into the melee of splashing and dunking that was already underway there.

As they played, the sun disappeared entirely, and the surf became indistinguishable from the black night sky. The only light came from the stars and the two flashlights they’d taken into the water. Merlin came up behind a small wave and glimpsed somebody kissing before he went under again. The water was a murky, pale green, lit intermittently with the ghostly beam of a torch. Little flecks of silt glimmered like fairy dust. Beneath the water, he felt calm, and above the water, he felt the breathless elation of summer. It was a feeling he associated with friendship. The next time he took a breath, he saw Will tackling Gwaine, and then he saw Arthur, floating on his back by himself. He seemed almost to be sleeping. Merlin thought about going over to him, but to say or do what, he didn’t know. As he crouched, frozen between rolling sets, Will sprang from the water and landed on Arthur’s middle, yelling incoherently. Gwaine followed him.

Arthur spluttered and stood out of the water entirely. Merlin looked away, but heard him say, “Fuck off,” as he slogged toward land.

“Ah come on, Arthur,” said Will.

Gwaine splashed water after him. “Come on princess, don’t be like that…”

But Arthur kept walking. And just like that, Merlin realized he was exhausted. He looked to the shore and saw the girls already toweling off there. He was the last to start in.

Out of the water, he started shivering and couldn’t stop. The night had gotten cold quickly. Jess was handing a towel to Arthur ahead of him and saying, “That’s a good look for you,” with a sly expression. Arthur covered himself and made a vague sound. Nobody had another towel. He’d just have to shiver all the way back to his own towel in the tent.

“What about me?” Gwaine said, shimmying over to the girls. They giggled.

“Shit, Merlin,” Will said suddenly, an expression which was beginning to pluck a chord of anxiety in Merlin. “Did you chuck a fat?”

“No,” Merlin said, attempting to cover himself with his hands. Gwaine was laughing breathlessly. Even Lance was chuckling. Merlin thought he might die, and was regretting every decision that had led him to this moment, down to and including being born.

“Bullshit,” Will said. “Look at it!”

And just like that, Merlin snapped.

“Yeah, alright Will,” he said, not meeting anybody’s eyes. He was done with Will’s new asshole act, and he was done with this endless, bizarre day. He did the only thing that would shut Will off. He pulled his boxers down. “It’s not a boner, it’s just big. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you Will?” He looked Will in the eye, and cast a meaningful glance down at his crotch.

Gwaine and Lance doubled over with laughter. Jess gasped and Gwen cackled.

“Fuck you, Merlin,” Will said, turning away. “Fuck you. Fuck ya.”

Merlin’s lips quirked in the smallest of grins. He noticed Jess still staring in open disbelief, and hurriedly pulled his boxers back up. Suddenly Arthur was there, pressed against him again.

“Classic,” he said, laughter thick in his voice. He was still very much naked, but Merlin was too tired to feel out of sorts as he walked back to the fire with Arthur’s arm slung around his shoulders. If he could only figure out how to permanently chill his magic out, he might just have a friend.

 

Later, around the fire, Lance started playing his guitar. He wasn’t very good - Merlin thought even he could do better, and he’d taught himself on a garage sale piece of shit - but then Gwaine started making up raunchy songs on the spot, and even Will looked lighter than he had in months in the soft orange glow. Each of them stood out starkly against the deep black backdrop of the deserted dunes, figures animated with light. Merlin was focusing on a masterpiece of a s’more, and the joint they’d passed around earlier was inspiring him to explain every step of the complex process to Arthur, leaving out the little magic bits which he couldn’t really explain anyway. Arthur listened intently, and took the finished creation when Merlin had finished.

“Fuck, it’s good!” he exclaimed around the mouthful. “Guys! Guys guys guys,” he shouted, “Dudes you gotta try these!”

“I want one,” Gwaine shouted, holding out his hands. Arthur tossed him one.

“Jess?” Merlin asked.

“We’ll share,” she said. She was already sharing a blanket with Gwaine. Merlin rolled his eyes.

“Shit!” Gwaine yelled suddenly, making Merlin jump. “This is good. This is - it’s incredible!”

“You made these?” Lance asked, chewing in awe.

Merlin started laughing. “They’re just s’mores,” he said.

“Really fucking good s’mores!” Gwaine shouted.

Merlin looked down at his fingers combing through the cool sand and the place where Arthur’s knee rested companionably against his own. This was the moment, he thought. This was the best part, one of those teen movie perfect summer times. This was the moment he wanted to crystallize and keep with him.

Arthur leaned in and whispered, “Don’t even tell them about the cinnamon, just tell them you didn’t add anything, to fuck with them.”

Merlin laughed, and it came out more like a giggle. Arthur bumped shoulders with him conspiratorially.

“What’s that?” Will asked, staring at them, searching.

“Nothing, mate, nothing,” Arthur said, eating another s’more. Will’s eyes narrowed.

“Here,” said Gwaine, holding out his s’more toward Arthur in a toast. “To the next surfing world champion.”

Merlin frowned. Gwaine really was a spectacular idiot. Lance clucked in disapproval, and Will’s face contorted.

“There’s a lot of guys I have to beat before that happens,” Arthur said, uneasy.

“Come on,” Gwaine said. He must have been more drunk than Merlin had realized. “You’re the best, you’re going all the way, mate!”

“Not even!” exploded Will. “He doesn’t even want it.”

“What, like you?” Gwaine said. Merlin could have punched him.

“Yeah, for example,” Will said. He was red now.

“Look, mate, calm down,” Lance said. “There’s more to life. We’re all having a really good time here, let’s just get over it.”

“Yeah god forbid anyone mess up your perfect life,” Will said.

“What?” Lance said.

“Got no one paying my way, have I?”

“You don’t know shit,” Lance said, shaking his head.

“Go fuck yourself,” Will said.

“Hey, guys, don’t do this,” Arthur said, holding out his hands as if to break up a fight. “It’s not about that shit, just –”

“Yeah and I don’t have fucking Uther Pendragon for a dad now, do I?” Will said.

“Dude,” Arthur said.

“You guys get whatever the hell you want for just doing nothing!”

“Will, back off,” Merlin said. Gwen and Jess looked almost scared.

“Fuck off, Merlin!”

“Yeah, Will, fine. Okay,” Merlin said. “You’re the best at everything, you’re gonna do it all on your own, and you’re gonna be world champ. Great, we all agree. Now fucking chill.”

“Yeah, well,” Will said, “we all know why you’re here.” He paused, looking around for confirmation. Everyone just stared. “Don’t we? I mean, what do you think, Merlin, he’s gonna just let you suck his dick?”

Gwaine snorted, but Lance just looked at Arthur. Merlin’s fists clenched as he fought his raging magic down before he could even speak. But his magic wasn’t cooperating, he was too blindsided, too angry, too hurt. He had to get away.

“Fuck you,” he muttered as he pushed himself up and took off into the dark.

He ran, tripping in the sand, until he couldn’t hear them anymore. He looked back, and kept going until he could no longer see the glow of the fire. He threw himself down in the sparse dune grass and plunged his hands into the sand like coals into water. He felt as if he might actually be steaming, so he tried to focus on his breath. He’d read that meditation helped with panic attacks and anger issues, and he’d thought it might help controlling his magic. It did, but not as much as the sudden cold. With the heat of the fire off his face and the clear sky opening out into infinity above him, it was easier to feel small. Contained. Less like a destructive rage monster that could turn the sand under his friends into boiling lava.

But once the anger wore off, he was left with an empty sadness. He knew embarrassment must be there somewhere, but he couldn’t bring himself level with it. Will was his best friend. They’d done everything together since they were three years old. They’d gone through puberty together, tackled school together. Everything hard he’d ever done, he’d done with Will beside him. How could somebody like that just…stop? He tried to remember what it felt like when Will had actually been there for him. When he’d had somebody to fall back on. It seemed like a long time ago. And it seemed like his own fault, though he knew that was only half true.

Suddenly he became aware of footsteps kicking toward him. It had to be Will, come to apologize. He’d probably been forced, but Merlin didn’t care. He wanted his friend back.

“Looks like a pipe.”

Merlin sat up to see Arthur standing a few feet away, looking at the sky.

“What?” Merlin said, entirely wrong-footed. His magic crashed around like a bull in a china shop, smashing into his organs uncomfortably.

“That constellation,” Arthur said.

“The Saucepan?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, looking down at him. Moonlight highlighted his face, and Merlin looked away. He’d found the embarrassment at last. He wasn’t sure what Arthur had come to say, but it couldn’t be good. The invisible line had been crossed and Merlin knew there was no coming back with certain types of people. He told himself those weren’t the people worth knowing. But Arthur stepped over him and lay down in the sand beside him.

“If you add the top of Orion,” he continued, pointing up so Merlin could see what he meant. Merlin considered this. If Arthur was just going to pretend nothing had happened, it could mean they might be friends, or it might blow up in Merlin’s face later. Merlin decided to take his chances and play along. He leaned back into the sand, careful not to touch him, just in case.

He couldn’t see the pipe.

“Like, an old fashioned pipe,” Arthur said, leaning so their shoulders pressed together, and the tops of their heads almost touched. He traced the stars with his finger. “Curved. Like that painting, _Ceci n’est pas une pipe_.”

Merlin saw it suddenly, and laughed. “You know who Magritte is?” he said, looking over at Arthur.

Arthur looked back. “Yeah, I’m not an idiot,” he said, smiling.

 _You do hang out with Gwaine,_ Merlin wanted to say. But he couldn’t talk about the others, not just now. It would shatter the moment. Their faces were too close together.

“You make it sound so casual,” Merlin said, looking back upward. “Whenever I try to talk about surrealism, people just think I’m weird.”

“Well you are,” Arthur said.

Merlin’s heart sank. “What do you mean?”

“Aren’t we all?” Arthur said, breaking into a laugh.

Merlin’s breath huffed out in weak laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess.”

As Arthur settled into silence, Merlin glanced over surreptitiously. He realized he hadn’t actually heard Arthur laugh, really laugh, before this weekend.

“So…” he said. “Are you ready for the comp next weekend?”

Arthur grunted and stretched his arms upward. “I guess. He’s right, honestly…I don’t care about that stuff,” he said.

“But you’re doing it,” Merlin said, sitting up on an elbow to look at him without being so close. “You work harder than anyone.”

“Yeah, well,” Arthur said, looking past him to the stars. “My dad.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said. “But it’ll be great when you win, right? Money? Sponsors? Girls…”

Arthur’s smile was crooked as he looked at Merlin. “Everyone’s so confident I will,” he said.

Merlin shrugged, looking out at the water. “Everyone’s got eyes,” he answered. Arthur scoffed. “Well it’s true,” Merlin said.

“My dad must be blind, then,” said Arthur.

“What, he doesn’t think you can do it?”

Arthur shrugged. “He doesn’t say much about what I can do,” he said, his eyes firmly on the sky. “He says a whole hell of a lot more about what I don’t do, and that’s if he’s even talking to me at all, which sometimes doesn’t happen for months. He’s busy, I guess. He has a lot of…responsibilities. He just wants me to take mine seriously, too.”

Merlin didn’t know what to say to that. It was too personal. His brain, instead, staged an intellectual debate on whether the golden sun or the silver moon better suited Arthur’s cheekbones and his lips. The shape and intensity of his eyes reminded Merlin of a hawk. This Arthur was nothing like the dim shell he’d seen in the dream, and yet he felt they were the same. It made him sad, and his magic dragged at his sadness. He didn’t notice Arthur’s sidelong glance, but was startled out of thought when Arthur turned to fully meet his gaze. Merlin looked away.

“It’s okay if you look at me, Merlin,” Arthur said softly. Merlin glanced back at him and away. He could feel his cheeks burning. “I don’t care. It’s no big deal.”

Merlin finally looked him in the eye, searching for ridicule, and finding none. Which was perhaps, in a way, worse. He sighed and flopped back into the grass. _It’s not me, it’s my magic,_ he wanted to say. But that wasn’t totally true, and it was becoming less so every second Arthur talked like a human being instead of a surfer.

“What about your dad?” Arthur asked.

“Oh, um,” Merlin said. He was always startled when he had to explain. “He left when I was a baby.”

“Shit, Merlin, I’m sorry, I –”

“No no,” said Merlin, “it’s fine. My mum and I had to sort of scrape by a few times, but Gaius has always done what he could to help…he’s actually been sort of a father to me, not that I needed one. My mum’s great.”

“Gaius was sort of a father to me too, when I was a kid,” Arthur said. “After my mum died, my dad was away a lot. Gaius looked after me, made sure I didn’t burn anything down or get kidnapped or anything.”

Merlin couldn’t reconcile such a lonely child with the person next to him. “I can’t imagine Gaius minding small children,” was all he said.

“Neither can I, and I was there,” Arthur said. They both laughed.

“I’m sorry about your mum,” Merlin said, when they’d caught their breath.

“Yeah,” Arthur said. “Me too. She was…I mean, I can remember a few things, and she was amazing. And she made my dad so different.”

Merlin’s heart broke a little at the sound in Arthur’s voice, and he wanted to reach out, embrace him. And that wasn’t his magic at all.

“She would’ve been so much cooler than him about puberty,” Arthur continued, with a laugh. “My dad was so awkward.”

“Oh, god,” Merlin groaned. “Your dad and the anxieties of a teen, oh, no.”

“You have no idea, mate,” Arthur said with a rueful laugh. “He felt some strange need to try and explain things, and I didn’t have the courage to tell him to just leave me alone to figure it out myself, so he just rambled on…”

“In that voice of his!” Merlin exclaimed. He couldn’t help laughing. “I’m going to have nightmares, now. This is your fault.”

“Good!” said Arthur, laughing too. “I won’t be alone.” He propped himself on an elbow to look down at Merlin. “Your mum, did she handle it well?”

Merlin sighed. “She just sort of…let me be. She knew if I needed to ask her something, I would. Not that I ever did. What parents think we need them to tell us about, I don’t know.”

Arthur snorted. After a moment, he glanced at Merlin.

“You don’t…like girls, do you, Merlin,” he said.

Merlin felt the cat was well out of the bag with that one, but he still felt embarrassed as hell about the specifics of what Will had said. But it was a direct question, and Arthur was looking at him curiously, not disgustedly.

“Uh…” He cleared his throat. He found he couldn’t look at him. It felt like he was admitting to more than just the question itself. “N…no. Not. No. I don’t. Not like that.” He’d come out to plenty of people, and it had never stuck in his throat like that. Fucking Will, making his life awkward.

“So then…what do you jerk off to?”

“What?” Merlin said. This was not one of the usual follow-up questions.

“There’s calendars of naked girls everywhere in plain sight, but I’ve never seen one of naked dudes,” Arthur said, shrugging.

Merlin tried to keep up, tried not to look and sound as completely scandalized as he was. He’d been to university, for god’s sake. He was a man of the world. Or at least, of the capitol of Australia. “Uh. I don’t…”

“Don’t jerk off?” Arthur asked.

“No!” Merlin said, covering his face with one hand. He wanted to die. “I mean...I mean yeah, I do but…but I don’t…know what to tell you? There are things that exist if you want to find them?”

And then, miraculously, they were both laughing again. Merlin realized he’d stopped breathing at some point, and it felt good to start again. He looked up at the stars, silently thanking them for the break in tension, and breathed deep.

“So…,” Arthur said, considering something. “You want to now?”

Merlin stopped breathing again.

“What?” he said, startling up onto his elbows. “Are you serious?”

Arthur flashed a perfectly-honed devil-may-care grin, and lay down. Merlin stared down at him, more than a little horrified.

“You’re kidding,” Merlin said, hoping he was.

“Guys do it all the time,” Arthur said.

“Not together,” Merlin said, incredulous. He was at university. He would have heard about this.

“Yeah,” Arthur said. “Why not?”

Merlin’s elbows came out from under him and he landed heavily on his back. Arthur was serious. He was completely serious, and not kidding at all. He was asking Merlin to jerk off next to him while he also jerked off. Right next to him.

Arthur evidently took this stunned silence as an affirmative.

“It’s relaxing. Just relax,” Arthur said, and Merlin found that that was the last thing he was ever going to be able to do, ever again. Ever. His fight-or-flight response was buzzing in all of his joints and getting all jumbled up with his magic, as he tried to decide whether he should literally run away or take this completely once-in-a-lifetime chance to get off sort-of-with Arthur Pendragon at face value.

Arthur’s arm moved against Merlin’s right elbow, and Merlin heard a soft sound that was definitely the knot at the front of Arthur’s board shorts coming undone.

Merlin was completely, utterly still for about four shaky breaths. And then he was fumbling madly at his stupid belt buckle, and why did belts have buckles? Why did shorts have belts? Why did shorts at all? Then his button was undone, then his zip, and then his hand was pressing beneath the still slightly damp elastic of his boxers to wrap around his already-hard dick.

And then he froze again. Was there etiquette for this situation? How hard was he supposed to go here? Was he expected to take this casually? Or get it over with as quickly as possible?

He opted for the latter. He began stripping his dick at a brisk pace, his teeth clenched, trying to regulate his breathing and make as little sound as humanly possible.

“Whoa, mate, it’s not a race,” Arthur said from beside him. His voice was breathy, and Merlin would have come at just that, if he hadn’t squeezed himself so hard it hurt at the shock of being spoken to at all in this situation.

“Just pretend you’re at home, in your room,” Arthur continued between loud exhales.

Merlin glanced over at him, but his face was thankfully turned away. So Merlin took the quickest of peeks downward and saw Arthur’s hand in the opening of his shorts, pulling, teasingly slow. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. That was going to haunt his dreams. All of this was. But if he was supposed to go for it, go for it he would.

He settled his hips upward a bit for a better angle and began to find Arthur’s pace. He could hear Arthur’s fist against the stiff material of his shorts, and tried not to make a sound as he matched him pull for pull. He bit his lip hard as he listened to Arthur’s little intakes of breath, felt the tiniest shift of muscles in his leg where they barely touched. He let his hips get into the motion, ever so slightly. God, this was good. It was agonizing.

He held the image of Arthur’s hand in his mind, and imagined it was teasing him. He pretended, just for this moment, that he was bringing those sounds out of Arthur, and that Arthur was asking those sounds of him.

“ _Nnh_ ,” came next from Arthur, and Merlin nearly leapt out of his skin. His magic was feral behind his eyes, and he was losing himself to it. He was jerking himself in earnest now, but it wasn’t enough. He sneaked his other hand down below the first, to rub against his balls. Better. Then lower, to press against the hollow behind them. _Yes_. He left leg fell out to the side as he worked, his breath coming ragged now. He felt tiny sparks starting behind his belly. He was close and Arthur was here. He felt like he was performing a high wire stunt, caught between perfection and a desperate need not to overstep.

Then Arthur moaned, and Merlin lost control. He knew he was making noise as well now, and he tried to keep quiet, he really did, because the sounds coming from Arthur were worth more than everything in the entire world, and he needed more of them, but he couldn’t keep this up forever, and –

“ _Fuck_.”

Merlin opened his eyes and turned his head sharply, his hands still moving. Arthur was up on his elbow again, watching him, and their eyes met. He looked dazed, his hand frantic in his shorts. Merlin couldn’t breathe.

A sudden, dull boom echoed across the dunes. They both scrambled up in adrenaline-fueled surprise. The alarm of Gaius’s truck was sounding across the sand. Merlin felt a tiny wisp of panic rise in his chest.

“That ain’t good,” Arthur said, lacing up his shorts. Merlin did his best to fix himself and they took off running.

They passed the campsite, which appeared to have been attacked by a small tornado of some sort. One of the tents was missing, some of its contents strewn about in the semi-dark. Luckily the other tent and the fire were intact. The wisp of panic grew. They heard yells and followed a deep, messy trail in the sand, searching for the source. As they reached the top of a high dune, they found it.

Gaius’s truck was buried nose-first in one of the sandy hills, and Gwaine was dragging Will bodily from the cab, screaming obscenities. Lance was helping the girls from the mouth of a tangled mass that could only be the missing tent, and all but Will were in various states of undress.

Arthur sprinted down to pull Gwaine off Will.

“Shit,” Merlin breathed as he slid his way down after. When he reached them, he picked up a corner of the tent and tugged. It was tied to the back of the truck. Will had dragged the four of them this whole way. They must be bruised all to hell, they were lucky if nobody had broken anything.

“Are you guys alright?” he asked. The girls nodded, looking murderous.

“Yeah,” Gwen said, “but your friend’s about to not be.”

Merlin turned to see where she looked. Gwaine was sitting on Will’s chest, only hampered from beating the shit out of him by Arthur’s quick hands. They were all shouting unintelligibly.

Lance growled obscenities as he stalked over to help. Merlin shook his head and untied the tent. If anything had happened to the truck, both Merlin and Will were going to be out of a home. But it was too dark to see any damage now.

“Let’s just get this back to camp,” Merlin said. He felt capable of seriously injuring Will himself. “Leave them to their dickhead issues.”

He fisted a corner of the tent and began the long drag back, tuning out the sounds of the fight.

 

Daylight woke Merlin the next morning. He opened his eyes to the bright orange of the tent all around him and the sandy brown back of Will’s head in front of him. He closed his eyes again. He’d gone to sleep alone, but with an idea that this would be the arrangement. The two outcasts lumped together in one tent. He remembered the truck and the possibility of Gaius’s most disappointed face and turned over in disgust.

He was met with the smooth, tanned back and blond hair of Arthur Pendragon.

After the initial surprise, this too made sense. Five would have been a tight fit for one tent, and the others had probably wanted to continue whatever had been interrupted.

Which reminded him that he and Arthur had also been interrupted. He couldn’t stop staring at Arthur’s back. It was broad and lean and muscled, and had lain next to him the entire night, even after what they’d sort of done together. God, how wasted had they been? He remembered Arthur’s face looking down at him, both of them breathing hard, not daring to look away. It seemed incredibly unlikely in the garish, orange-tinted light of morning. Probably he’d dreamt the whole thing. He felt a sad little cavern carving its way into his chest. It hadn’t been a dream, and here Arthur was right next to him. But the moment was long gone and the last thing in the world he could do was reach out and touch him.

He briefly wondered what might have happened if he had been awake when Arthur had come in last night, and immediately forced the thought away. The only realistic scenario was one of extreme awkwardness. He would be grateful for a fresh start in broad daylight, no matter what his sad little cavern said.

The occupants of the other tent emerged noisily, rousing Will. Merlin pretended to sleep as he unzipped the tent and went out to join them. He heard Arthur shift in front of him.

“Come on,” Arthur said, sleep in his voice. Merlin studiously ignored him. “I know you’re up,” he said as he levered himself out of the tent.

Merlin sighed, gathered himself, and followed. The others were prepping their boards and looking out at the surf as Merlin squinted in the sun. He foraged for something to eat and settled onto the sand. He was still tired, and content to watch.

“Sorry about last night,” Will said to Gwaine.

“Ah, go crash a car,” Gwaine said, jostling him good-naturedly.

“You crash it, I already dug it out once.”

“Come on Merlin,” Gwaine called as they jogged to the water.

“Hmm?” Merlin said around a granola bar. “I was just gonna…work on my tan.”

“Your tan?” called Lance. But they were too focused on the sea to pay him any attention.

“Go on, grab it,” Arthur said, waxing his board.

Merlin looked up at him. He was grinning and nodding toward the last free surfboard. Merlin didn’t move, and Arthur raised his eyebrows. There was still friendship there. Merlin grinned back and ducked into the tent to put on his board shorts before taking the board and running after them. He lived in Newcastle. He might as well learn.

The next few hours were a blur. On the beach, Arthur showing him how to paddle and when to stand up on the board, pressing Merlin’s legs together as he lay on it, reminding him to keep them that way. Then in the water, Merlin paddling doggedly despite being swept back by each wave. He paused once, breathless in the shallows, to see how the others were getting on, and watched Arthur carve a wave.

He’d seen it before, many times, but it was still pretty stunning. Arthur’s board cut through the water with single-minded purpose, and the wave cradled him like a son. He appeared to be at once focused and empty of all thought. He was a natural if there ever was one, raised on a board like so many others in the area, but somehow better. Not just a child of the sea, but the king of them. Merlin shook away the unbidden image.

Arthur went into the water and Merlin went back to his drudgery, doing his best to force his board down underneath each wave. Eventually, panting and sore, he made it out to where the other guys were sitting.

“Heyyy, Merlin!” Gwaine cheered and patted him on the back.

“Yeah! You did it,” shouted Lance.

“Big fuckin deal, he can swim,” said Will. Merlin shot him a look.

“Forget I taught you how?” he said. Will looked away. It was like Will was trying to erase their entire lives from his memory. Merlin shook his head. “What now?” he said.

“That was the hardest part,” said Arthur. “I’ll let you know when an easy one’s coming so we can start paddling, and I’ll tell you when to stand, yeah?”

Merlin nodded and looked toward the shore. “Wow,” he said. “I’ve never seen it like this before.” The glittering expanse of blue was deceptively flat, only the tiny strip of white cutting the edge of it belied how far out he’d come.

“Here, look at this,” Arthur said, sliding off his board and under the surface. Merlin scrambled to do the same.

Arthur took Merlin’s elbow and helped him come farther down, gesturing out to sea. Endless, clear blue. Never before had he really understood the idea of entire unknown worlds existing in the water. He did now. He thought his ribs might burst with the size of it trying to fit inside his heart. He looked at Arthur, who was gleefully watching his awe.

When they broke the surface again, Merlin’s face was beginning to go numb from smiling. He caught Will’s disgusted look just before he turned to paddle away, but didn’t care. This incredible view was something new and extraordinary, and his magic was singing with it.

“Alright just hang out a bit till I give you the go-ahead,” Arthur said before paddling away with the others. Merlin watched them, trying to sit on his board like they did, and failing several times before contenting himself with laying on it.

While he waited, Gwen waved Lance in at the end of one of his runs. Merlin couldn’t hear what was said, but it ended in Gwen kissing Lance on the mouth and taking his board to paddle out herself.

“Couldn’t let the boys have all the fun even if my board’s in the shop,” she said to Merlin, before immediately catching a spectacular wave. Merlin was quite in awe.

“Do you compete, Gwen?” Merlin asked, when she’d returned.

“Yeah,” she said. “Women’s pro junior champ, ain’t I?”

“Serious?” Merlin asked. “That’s awesome, I had no idea.” And then it hit him. “Shit, _you’re_ Elyan’s superstar sister! No wonder that kid tries so hard.”

Gwen laughed. “I won’t be offended, you probably don’t come out to ogle us on the day like the others.”

Nobody else was around. Merlin smirked. “Well I’ll make sure I do from now on, if everyone’s as good as you.”

Gwen splashed him, which started a rather ungainly water fight on Merlin’s part.

“Check out the ladies,” he heard Will call. “Girl fight!”

“At least it’s not a dick-measuring contest between the three of us,” Merlin called back. “You’d lose.”

Gwen got water up her nose laughing.

Soon, Arthur was calling to him and making exaggerated paddling motions. Merlin looked behind him and saw a swell beginning to build. He glued his legs together and paddled as hard as he could, but the wave overtook him before he gained enough speed.

Will scoffed.

“Next time,” Arthur said.

“Solid effort,” put in Gwen.

This happened a few more times before Merlin cut out the hesitation and just went for it. He could feel the wave under him and behind him, powering him along.

“You’ve got it Merlin!” He heard someone yell.

“Stand up! Stand up, now!”

He lifted himself upright, struggling to balance while keeping his knees bent, and stood. He heard shouts from the water and the beach, Lance and Jess had noticed and were cheering him on as well. He couldn’t help it – he shouted a ridiculous “Woohoo!” and rode the wave till it died. He was exultant as he let himself fall backward into the foam.

When he’d paddled back out to the others he received a round of enthusiastic high fives. Even Will mumbled a grudging, “Nice one.”

Merlin caught a few more waves as the day wore on, but mostly he watched the others. Gwen was easily as good as Gwaine, if not Arthur. The three of them treated the day as a sort of tacit, friendly competition, but they were hard on themselves if they lost control.

But then, in the late afternoon, Gwaine looked to shore and let loose an entire string of swear words. Merlin followed his gaze. Ector stood there.

“Shit,” Arthur said. Merlin warmed to him even further, if possible.

“We were here first,” Gwen said. “No worries.”

Gwaine just looked at her. “They’re not here on accident. Did you tell them?” he asked Will.

“Fuck no,” Will said, outraged. “He was already giving me shit for losing my spot, no way I’d ask him out here.”

“This is bad,” Gwaine said. “They surf like it’s a fucking joust.”

“Stay here,” Gwen said to Merlin, as the rest of them paddled over to meet the three newcomers.

Merlin watched, apprehensive, as the two groups exchanged words. It didn’t look pretty. Everybody’s relaxed, happy faces had tightened and clouded over. It seemed Ector had effectively ruined the mood. Merlin felt his magic begging to get into the water, and he suddenly knew that he could send a jolt of it straight to Ector’s heart if he wanted. Merlin recoiled, pulling his hands above the surface and clasping them in front of his chest. He had to keep his cool.

Even though he couldn’t quite hear their words, he saw the moment both Will and Arthur got angry. It came just after Ector gestured over in his direction. What that had meant, he could only guess. Gwen was the first to storm off, she paddled straight past Ector, splashing him mightily before catching her wave. She absolutely smashed it.

“So what’s happening?” Merlin called to her when she was back in earshot.

She shook her head. “Dickheads won’t leave,” she said. “They’re all out to prove something now. Ector’s giving Will a hard time for getting cut, and Will…you know him.”

Merlin sighed. He did know him. None of this was going to end well.

“We should head in,” Gwen said. “They’re gonna get stupid and dangerous.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said. But he felt closer to the action here. Neither of them moved.

Everyone was more intense now. All of the surfers were going harder than before, no longer just practicing, but competing for blood. Will was visibly frustrated, out-surfed every time by Arthur and then jeered at by Ector. Finally Merlin tired of it. Just as he decided to paddle in, he noticed a wave coming, and thought he might as well get a last one in. He started paddling hard.

“Merlin no,” Gwen called. “Don’t!”

But Merlin didn’t listen, didn’t care. He was paddling harder than he had all day. He refused to fail in front of Ector. If he could just get the wave under him…and then, miraculously, he did. He felt the moment he caught it, and stood frantically up.

“Hey,” he heard Ector’s deep voice booming across the water, “The pansy’s caught a wave! He’s got it! Look at him go!”

Merlin’s blood boiled at his laughter. So that’s what he’d been saying. Of course. The golden boys of surf shouldn’t be caught dead with a pansy like him. As he struggled to reign in his angry magic and stay upright, he heard Ector again, closer this time.

“Come on pansy boy, let’s go!”

The asshole was dropping in on him. Merlin didn’t know what he was supposed to do other than keep his balance and try not to kill anybody. And then suddenly, the wave rushed downward and Merlin was being tossed about by the crush. As he came up gasping, he saw Ector a few scant feet from him. Their boards bobbed freely between them. Ector was laughing despite his own wipeout.

“Too much for you to handle, huh?” he said. “I bet you –”

But whatever lewd insult he’d had in mind was drowned out as a new set came crashing down on them. Merlin’s ankle was whipped out from under him by his leash, he was being thrown around like so much laundry, and he had no idea which way he must go to find air again. Somehow, he had the presence of mind to undo the leash and pull his ankle free, and then try to shield his head from whatever board might be nearby.

When he finally surfaced, spluttering and coughing up seawater, he heard shouting that he couldn’t make out from a ways away, but no Ector.

“Ector?” he called. “Ector!” There was no answer. He dragged as much air as he could into his screaming lungs and dove again.

Ector was there, far beneath him, bleeding and sinking away. Merlin swam down hard until he grasped Ector’s ankle, then pulled them both desperately upward. He let his magic do as it pleased, anything to help them survive this. He felt it unfold and expand inside him, buoying them higher. When he broke the surface, Ector’s buddies were nearby. Merlin called to them and they paddled over to get Ector on a board, but Merlin still heard desperate shouting. He looked around and saw Gwen frantically heaving a body onto a board as well. Someone else had been hurt.

 The three of them got Ector to shore just after the others, and Merlin started screaming, “The truck! Get the truck!” One of Ector’s friends was already doing CPR, so Merlin stumbled over to where his friends – they were his _friends_ , which one, which one had been hurt – were crowded. He broke through between Will and Gwen and fell to his knees. It was Arthur.

“Arthur,” he said, “Arthur?” But Arthur’s eyes were closed. There was a bloody gash on his forehead. Merlin remembered this, the terror and agony and magic bubbling up into his throat. The frantic electricity of seeing Arthur, his Arthur, King Arthur, Arthur Pendragon, pale and lifeless. He couldn’t move as his vision switched sickeningly between this dying Arthur and the long-dead one.

“He’s not breathing,” Will sobbed. “It’s my fault.”

Lance was there with the truck. “Get them in, come on, hurry!”

A few breathless moments later, they were crammed in the back of Gaius’s covered truck. Ector’s friends were still doing CPR, Gwen had started chest compressions on Arthur, and Will was screaming at Merlin to do something.

“Come on Merlin,” he was saying, tears in his eyes as he stared at him meaningfully. “Just do something, anything.”

Merlin realized detachedly that somehow, Will knew about his magic. His brain didn’t have the space to work out what that meant.

“Merlin, breathe for him,” Gwen said. She was shaking despite the authority in her voice. Merlin bent down to hold Arthur’s nose and force air into his mouth, just as he’d learnt in school. As he did, he tried to focus his magic on Arthur’s head wound and his lungs, begging it to pull out the water and stop the bleeding. He sat back and Gwen started her compressions again.

Merlin held back a sob and wiped blood off his mouth. He tried to push the tumult of his magic through his palms where they gripped Arthur’s motionless shoulders. If there were ever a time for this to be a gift, it was now. He thought they had probably hurt him getting him into the truck, but whatever they’d done had to be better than the alternative. It was still a forty minute drive to the hospital. Gwen shouted Merlin’s name and he leaned down once more to breathe for Arthur.

Will crouched beside him, sobbing, “It’s my fault.”

Ector’s friends were cursing and beating the walls of the truck shell. Merlin glanced over and saw blood spilling from Ector’s mouth as one of them pounded on his chest. Merlin felt a cold calm moving over them all, and he knew death was near.

It was Merlin’s turn to breathe for Arthur again, and he imagined he breathed magic into his lungs as well as air.

Arthur coughed and sputtered, water pouring from his mouth.

 

Later, Merlin and Will sat in the hospital after everyone else had gone home. Arthur was stable, but in surgery to repair his shattered right forearm. Gwen had talked Lance into going home to shower and get something to eat. Merlin could feel Arthur’s heartbeat thrumming through a thin line of magic that now stretched through white hospital walls to the operating room. He hadn’t meant to do it, but now he couldn’t move for fear it might stop and he might not be there to start it up again.

Ector was dead. Merlin couldn’t get Arthur’s pale face or the blood pouring from Ector’s mouth out of his mind.

Merlin looked over at Will. His frantic tears were long dry, but his expression was still bleak and stricken. He’d stayed out of guilt. He’d dropped in on Arthur the same as Ector had done to Merlin, and it had been Will’s board that had knocked Arthur out in the crush of the set. Merlin wondered if he should be angrier at Will, or more something for Ector, but he couldn’t manage it. He was overtaken in waves by guilty relief that only Ector was dead, and anxiety that that might change. His eyes were blank on the white linoleum in front of the chair where he sat, his focus on that bright, golden thread. He didn’t notice the clipped footsteps that came to a halt beside him.

“Why are you here?” a commanding voice like two large stones rubbing together startled Merlin out of himself. He looked up.

Uther Pendragon stood over him in a crisp black trench coat, despite the time of year. His expression was thunderous. Merlin’s magic sparked into flame.

“Is that my son’s blood on your face?” he said, before Merlin could come up with an answer.

Merlin had forgotten what he must look like. He wasn’t sure…he thought back. “Yes,” he said. It was a struggle to speak to him politely.

“So this is your fault,” Uther said, his voice going dangerously smooth.

Merlin felt so stunned and guilty he thought it might be. But Will answered for him.

“It’s not though, Merlin saved him, sir,” Will said. “It’s…it is my fault though.”

“You’re that boy who was cut from the competition, aren’t you?” Uther said. “You did this to have your spot back, yes?”

“No!” Will said, and the tears were flowing again. Merlin watched, helpless, as his friend was cornered by a lion. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean for this to happen, we were all just…and then Ector…”

“Blaming a dead man?” Uther boomed. “How dare you? How dare you implicate one of the best surfers I have ever had the honor to sponsor in your senseless act of vengeance?”

“It wasn’t!” Will cried. “I was just…I only dropped in on him to…it was stupid, I just wanted to prove I could do better.”

“A reckless action at best,” Uther said, eyes narrowed.

Will looked down. “I know,” he said. “It was my fault.”

“And at worst –”

“It wasn’t,” Merlin rasped. He cleared his throat and tried again. “It wasn’t on purpose,” Merlin said.

Uther’s burning eyes flicked over to him.

“He couldn’t have planned it if he’d tried,” Merlin went on. “The waves took them both under, it could just as easily have been Will who got hurt.”

Uther’s jaw clenched.

“There were seven of us there,” Merlin said firmly. “We all saw. It was stupid, but it wasn’t some diabolical plan.”

Before Uther could speak, a doctor approached.

“Uther Pendragon? You can see him now.”

Uther turned back to them before the doctor led him away.

“You will never surf professionally, William Meritt,” he said.

He turned on his heel and left. Merlin and Will sat in silence once more.

 

That night Merlin lay awake in his bed, watching the light and shadow from the street play on his ceiling. A nurse had forced Merlin, Will, and the returned Lance out after allowing them the merest glance at Arthur’s sleeping form. He’d looked pale and bruised, still closer to dream-Arthur than the bronzed, vibrant athlete he’d been earlier that same day.

“Now go home and rest before we decide to commit you too,” the nurse had said, feeling of Merlin’s forehead. “You’re warm. Nurofen, water, and sleep before visiting hours tomorrow.”

Merlin and Will had gone home in Gaius’s truck without saying a word to each other. Gaius had been back at the shop when they’d arrived. At first he’d looked ready to read them the riot act, but upon seeing the state they were in, he’d merely shuffled them off to bed.

The thread connecting him to Arthur was gossamer-thin now, but it was there. In his half-asleep state he found that he could actually hold it in his hand. Distantly, he wondered at this discovery of his magic’s tangibility. Or perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks. Eventually, lulled by Arthur’s steady heart, he fell gently into darkness.

 

The next morning, Merlin went down to the shop to find it closed for the day. Gaius was waiting in the break room with a pot of tea.

“Closed?” Merlin said.

“Out of respect for the dead,” Gaius said, moving a cup toward Merlin. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Merlin sat down but shook his head. “Don’t know what to say.”

Gaius regarded him carefully. “If there were anything you wanted to tell me about…”

Merlin looked up at him. “Like what?”

Gaius sighed and drank down his tea. “Well, I can’t leave the truck in this state any longer.” He got up and went to the garage, and Merlin followed. They spent the rest of the morning scrubbing blood and sea out of the carpeted bed. Merlin’s heart sagged under the weight of the task, but his busy hands helped pass the time until he could go to the hospital.

When he got there, Gwaine, Lance, Gwen, and Elyan were already there, gathered around Arthur’s stark white hospital bed. Merlin knocked on the door frame as he came in.

“Hey,” he said, shoving his hands in his back pockets and looking around at them. He didn’t know how he fit into their group anymore. Not after Ector.

Arthur’s battered face lit up. “Hey,” he said, “here comes my other knight in shining armor.”

Lance and Gwaine tackled Merlin immediately in a bear hug, thumping him thoroughly on the back before letting him go. Merlin coughed a few times before straightening up. He hadn’t quite recovered from near-drowning himself, but he was relieved and glad they were all still friends.

“It was more Gwen than me,” he said, shrugging

“That’s why he said _other_ knight in shining armor,” Gwaine said, grinning and thumping him again. “We told him all about it – he doesn’t remember anything since the tryouts on Friday.”

Merlin was taken aback. He felt like his entire life had happened in those 36 hours.

“You don’t look so good, mate,” Arthur said, frowning.

“You’re one to talk,” Merlin said, trying to remember how they were supposed to act, before everything. He found he had no reference point to grab hold of, and would have to make do with talking to him like a real person. He was terrified all over again.

“What happened to you?” Arthur asked, looking around at the others when Merlin hesitated.

Lance cleared his throat. “Er…” he began.

Merlin cut him off. “Just got caught in the surf, nothing drastic.”

Gwen shot him a look. “He nearly drowned himself trying to save Ector after the bastard dropped in on him.”

Merlin looked at his feet. He didn’t want to talk about this. About how Ector was dead and Arthur was not, and the only difference was Merlin. The only difference was a choice he had made.

“Shit, Merlin,” Arthur said. “Are they giving you a medal or what?”

“Nah,” Merlin said, his mouth turning down involuntarily. He would not cry. His voice was thick, but he would not cry. He swallowed hard. “How you feeling, anyway?”

Arthur sighed. “Not feeling much, they’ve got me on so many drugs. Wait. You were surfing?!”

Merlin grinned, feeling stupid and shaky and shy. “Yeah. You taught me.”

Arthur’s smile was huge. “I hope I remember that.”

“Shattered right arm, fractured left ankle, sprained left wrist, head wound with memory loss, he’s a mess,” said Gwaine with a grin.

“Bah, ‘m fine,” Arthur said. “All fixed up now. Good as new in no time. Would have been a lot worse if not for the two of you.”

“Lance drove the truck,” Merlin said.

Arthur laughed. Merlin felt some of the tightness in his chest ease. He moved around the bed to sit in a chair next to Gwen.

“So where’s Will?” Arthur asked. Merlin looked around, but nobody met his eye.

“They tell you he dropped in on you and wiped you out?” Merlin asked.

“No,” Arthur said, brow furrowed. “That was stupid.”

“Yeah. He’s been beating himself up about it ever since. Your dad came and threatened him, actually.”

Arthur started. “My dad came?”

“Yeah last night, he was here…he went in to see you.”

Arthur was shaking his head. “I was out,” he said.

“Oh,” Merlin said. He didn’t know what else to say, especially since Arthur couldn’t remember they’d talked about him.

Lance cleared his throat. “Anybody hungry?”

“Yeah,” said Gwaine.

“And me,” Added Gwen. Merlin looked at Lance, who shook his head slightly. Merlin stayed in his seat, and they left wordlessly.

“What did he say?” Arthur asked once they’d gone. Lance knew his friend well.

“Well, he wanted to know who put you in here…thought it was me because of all the blood, but –”

“Blood?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah…from your…” he pointed at Arthur’s forehead. “I forgot it was sort of…” he motioned to his entire face.

Arthur grimaced.

“Anyway Will volunteered himself right away and your dad sort of…accused him of taking you out on purpose. I guess he must have been pretty torn up.”

Arthur was shaking his head, looking down at his hands in his lap. “Just looking for somebody to sue,” he said. Merlin didn’t say he agreed. He wanted to find Uther and knee him in the nuts.

“In the end he just told Will he’d never surf pro, and left to see you,” he said. Arthur’s heartbeat twanged through Merlin’s magic, startling him.

“He what?” Arthur said, looking up at Merlin. “I can’t believe him, what was he thinking? I know actually, he thinks he owns the fucking world but –”

“I think he did him a favor, actually,” said Merlin, startling himself with the sudden truth. “You and Will…you sort of have a lot in common.”

“How’s that?” Arthur asked, still fuming.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t remember, but…we sort of talked. And you told me how you don’t care about…you know, all the competition? But you have to do it because of your dad? I know all you want is to make him proud.” Merlin paused, hoping he hadn’t gone too far. Arthur was looking down once more. “Well Will’s dad is dead, but I think he’s no less present than yours. He just doesn’t know what else to do but try and please him, and the pressure’s making him…”

“A dickhead,” Arthur supplied.

“Yeah,” Merlin said. “A real one.”

Arthur sighed. “My dad still had no right.”

Merlin shrugged. “Pick your battles, mate.”

Arthur closed his eyes and sighed. Merlin thought the act of pushing away his anger at Uther looked practiced and tired. Second nature. After the barest of moments, his heartbeat slowed and he looked back up.

“What else did we talk about, then?” Arthur asked.

Merlin felt a stab of adrenaline in his chest at the image of the two of them lying in the dune grass.

“Um, s’mores, mostly,” he said.

“What?”

“You’ll remember eventually.” Merlin was torn between hope that he would, and that he wouldn’t.

 

Five days passed quickly between work in the shop and visiting Arthur. Sometimes the others were there, and sometimes they weren’t. Merlin knew he was acting like a sick puppy, but he found he couldn’t make himself stay away. And though Arthur couldn’t yet remember that weekend, he bore Merlin’s clinging with the same gallant nonchalance. He seemed in fact to actually enjoy Merlin’s company, and Merlin enjoyed his more and more. He knew full well he was probably going to end up hurting himself, but as he was going back to school soon he just wanted to capitalize on the time he had.

Finally, Arthur was beginning to look more like himself. More alive. And as Merlin came home from a group visit one day, his path collided headlong with Will’s in the doorway to their apartment. He thought it was high time they deal with the situation.

“Hey,” Merlin said, grabbing Will’s arm as he tried to go around him. “You need to visit Arthur.”

“Fuck off,” said Will, shaking himself free. “They’d probably have me arrested if I showed up there.”

“You fuck off, Will,” Merlin said, shoving him back into the flat. He’d been wanting to have it out, so have it out they would. “You’ve been a piece of shit all summer, it’s time to be there for at least one of your friends.”

“He doesn’t wanna see me, Merlin!”

“Yeah, he does. He doesn’t even remember what happened, when we told him he practically rolled his eyes. He doesn’t give a shit, but you still need to apologize.”

Will was shaking his head. “I can’t look at him like this when it’s my fault.”

“Oh, fuck off, it’s not as if somebody’s dead because of you,” Merlin said, throwing himself into one of their two ratty armchairs. His head was suddenly hurting, too much was going on at once. Too late, he wished he hadn’t started this.

“He almost was,” Will said, rounding on him.

“Shut up,” Merlin said.

“I mean, you had to do whatever hoodoo bullshit you’ve been doing to –”

“Shut UP, Will! You don’t know anything about it.”

“You’re right, I don’t, because you never fucking told me, did you?”

Merlin looked up at him. “You’ve gotta be joking,” he said. “Me? Tell you anything? This summer? You’ve been treating me like a goddamn leper, and I’ve suddenly got this weird shit going on that I never even asked for, and I’m supposed to be able to tell you? When you’re hanging out with shitheads who call me a fag behind my back? Shit,” he said, realizing who exactly he was talking about. “Shit.” He dropped his head into his hands and tightened his fingers into his hair till it hurt. He wanted to rip it out and coat himself in ash.

“Merlin?” Will said.

“What,” Merlin bit out.

“You’re sort of um. You’re sort of. Hovering.”

Merlin’s head snapped up and he came down hard in the chair. He looked up at Will with wide eyes.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said, barely getting the words out past the growing lump in his throat. “I don’t know if I killed Ector or if I just let him die.”

“Shit, Merlin, neither,” Will said. He looked around for a stunned moment before sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “You were a bit busy at the time.”

Merlin shook his head at the ceiling. “I hated him. I hated him, and this…this whole thing it just…does things, sometimes. I can’t always control it.”

“Like the time I laughed at you tripping and my board up and whacked me one out of nowhere?” Will said, smirking.

Merlin sucked in a breath, derailed. “Is that how you knew?”

“Nah, I knew when I saw you working on Arthur’s board and you had light coming out of your hands.”

“Shit, I gotta be more careful,” Merlin said. “I was just making it smoother.”

“Is that why he always wins?” Will asked, a disgusted look on his face.

“No, you fuckhead, I do it to all the boards. It’s not for you idiots, it’s for Gaius’s reputation,” Merlin said. “Is that why you’ve been so pissy? You thought I was cheating?”

Will shrugged. “I dunno, maybe. It’s just been…I’ve just been…”

Merlin stared at him, unwilling to dig him out. Will met his eyes and sighed. “Jealous of your uni friends. Trying too hard at….everything. Sorry, mate. I really am.”

Merlin play-smacked his face like they used to when they were kids, but there was no heart in it. His voice came out strained. “Whatever. Just don’t go all aggro surfer on me again.”

“I won’t if you don’t go all self-loathing sad sack on me,” Will said. “You did everything you could. You pulled him from the water. You had me shouting at you, it was absolute chaos. I fucked up. You did your best.”

Merlin shook his head. “You don’t know. I don’t know.”

Will picked at a thread in the rug beneath him. “I don’t know anything about this whole thing you’ve got going on yeah,” he said. “But I know a lot about you.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Gaius says it’s something to do with destiny. You know like, I’m descended from that old beardy Merlin, or I am him, or shit, I don’t know. I don’t know anything about me anymore. Sometimes the…magic, whatever…just starts freaking out over nothing, and sometimes I end up doing things because of it.”

“Like what?”

 _Like falling for Arthur_ , he wanted to say. But he didn’t think he could entirely blame his magic for that. Not anymore. “When Ector showed up that day,” he said instead, “I felt – I knew – I could just…with a thought. He’d be dead.”

“But you didn’t,” said Will.

“I was so angry,” Merlin said.

Will shook his head, his mouth twisted. “You get angry a lot, dude. You whack people in the face and you trip them and make them drop ice cream on themselves. You don’t kill them. You never would. Honestly, you’re being ridiculous.”

Merlin made a frustrated sound and beat the arm rest with a fist. Will grabbed his forearm and held it.

“Merlin, Jesus look at me,” he said. “No, I had no idea you were so fucked up about this, and no, I don’t know anything about some beardy old guy and what he would do. But you volunteer at animal shelters for chrissake. You cried watching Scooby Doo once. You’re my stupid best friend, I don’t care if you’ve got phenomenal cosmic powers or whatever. It doesn’t change anything. You’re gonna listen to music that sounds like dudes crying and dye your hair purple and fall head over heels for my other friends, and that’s never gonna change. You did your best that day. If you hadn’t, everything would be even more fucked up than it is. Arthur never should have got hurt, and Ector was gonna fuck himself over one day, the way he acted. But Arthur’s still here, and Ector’s family’s got closure, and you did that.”

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, but couldn’t stop a few tears leaking out. He hung his head. “I don’t even know where this is coming from.”

“What, your manpain or my incredible speech?”

Merlin chuckled despite himself. “Both.”

Will threw himself backward to sprawl out on the floor. “Your arse, that’s where.”

Merlin kicked him. “Dickhead,” he said.

“Emo wizard,” Will said.

“Hey!” Merlin said, laughing harder.

When they’d settled into silence, Will spoke again. “You know, I read this thing once about lifeguards and other emergency workers, and they said the hardest part is when you’re new and you’re not used to losing people. Like, looking back you see all the things you could have done and you feel like it’s your fault? But if they keep doing the job it’s ‘cause they realize hindsight is lying to them, and they gotta just look forward instead of back.”

Merlin was silent for a long moment. “Where did you learn to read?” He finally said.

“From your boyfriend Arthur,” Will said, sitting up again.

“Fuck off.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Right, tell you what,” he said, slapping his knees. “I’ll go to the hospital right now and apologize if you’ll promise to stop beating yourself up _at least_ till I get back.”

“Yeah, alright,” Merlin said. He took a deep breath. And another. And another.

As Will hopped to his feet and went to the door, Merlin called out. “Hey Will?”

“Yeah mate,” said Will, pausing.

“We’re…we’re good, right?”

One side of Will’s mouth quirked up a little sadly. “Yeah,” he said.

 

Saturday was the day of the competition. Will had struggled to maintain his personality adjustment, and in good faith had gone down to the beach to support Gwaine, Elyan, and Lance. Merlin should have been minding the shop on such a busy day, but had gotten leave to watch the meet with Arthur in the hospital. Gaius hadn’t hesitated, knowing Arthur would be otherwise left alone.

When Merlin arrived, however, several other patients crowded Arthur’s room. Merlin realized Arthur’s was one of the few rooms with a TV, and Arthur, magnanimous as ever, had offered a championship viewing party. Merlin wondered why Arthur had asked him to come.

“Merlin,” Arthur called when he saw him. “Hey, come on in.”

Merlin hovered in the doorway, not seeing any free chairs.

“Actually, I think I’ll just go –”

“Nah, come on,” Arthur cut him off, patting the space next to him on the bed.

Merlin sighed and sat, dumping his messenger bag on the floor. His magic was going to exhaust him at such proximity. Arthur introduced him to the others, a round of names Merlin had trouble remembering but with jovial enough faces to match. They were an excitable group, with much cheering and groaning as the contest wore on, and their energy was infectious. Merlin cheered on his friends and booed their competitors as loudly as the rest.

At one point, he noticed Arthur looking at him sidelong and chuckling silently.

“Wh –” Merlin began to ask, before realizing he had his arm around Arthur’s shoulders. He removed it immediately, appalled.

“I’m sorry, I –”

“Watch the contest,” Arthur said, still laughing.

In the end, Lance did much better than expected, coming in fifth overall. Gwaine, by the skin of his teeth, took first place. Merlin watched Arthur carefully for any signs of regret or bitterness, but could see none. He looked genuinely happy for his friends, and not the least bit sad to be sidelined.

As the results solidified, the other patients began to trickle back to their own rooms. Merlin thought he’d be nervous, once they were alone, but he found that it was nice to sit in private silence, leaning lightly against each other’s arms. The thread that tied them was blazing and warm, pulsing gently with their heartbeats. He took it all in, feeling himself grow lighter with each moment he spent with this Arthur that was once again so far from the lifeless nightmare he’d seen. Only when all the coverage was over did Merlin stand and take up his bag to leave.

“Do you mind if I come back tomorrow to see if I can catch Gwaine and Lance when they visit?” Merlin asked, pausing.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You know you can come any time,” he said. “The nurses might call the police if you didn’t show.”

Merlin hoped he wasn’t blushing as he chuckled. Arthur’s face scrunched and he shifted, visibly uncomfortable.

“You alright?” Merlin asked, tensing in case he needed a nurse.

“Ah, yeah,” Arthur said. “It’s nothing.”

Merlin snorted. “Don’t be a martyr, if you’re stuck here it’s because they want to be able to help. Let me go get someone.”

“No no,” Arthur said. His face was beginning to go a bit red. “Really, it’s not –”

“And now you look warm. Really, Arthur, your father would strangle me himself if you felt pain on my watch.”

“I’m not warm!” Arthur said. “Just leave it, I’m fine.”

Merlin crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.

Arthur sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “It’s nothing. But I wanted to ask you….Can you close the door?”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, frowning slightly as he did.

“I remember all the way up to the night before, now,” Arthur said. Merlin tensed, his cheeks going hot.

“Oh,” Merlin said.

“Yeah but – what? What happened? What’s wrong?”

Merlin leaned back. “Nothing. What do you…remember…exactly?”

“I remember everyone splashing around…and I remember Will being a shithead…I think I remember holding Gwaine off him. Oh, I remember you flashing your dick, classic!” Arthur said laughing.

Merlin laughed weakly.

“But you said we talked,” Arthur continued. “About my dad, and s’mores. I still don’t remember that.”

“Ah,” Merlin said. “How tragic, to be denied the memory of my company.”

Arthur gave a half-hearted smile. “You can be funny, but I want to remember it. It’s…I can’t explain what it’s like to be missing pieces of memories. It’s right there, but I can’t get to it, the good parts or the bad parts. I want them all back.”

Merlin sobered immediately, thinking of his dreams and knowing all too well what Arthur meant.

“I get it,” he said. “I’m sure it’ll come back, if you’re already remembering some stuff.”

Arthur nodded. “Probably, but I think it helps if somebody tells me about it. I remembered the flashlights and the ocean in the dark because of something Gwaine said. Do you think…you could help?”

“Uh, sure,” Merlin said. “I’m not sure…how to…I mean. Well, we were all hanging around the fire and Gwaine started singing.”

“Oh, yeah, Lance was playing his stupid guitar! He sucks.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, grinning. “And we’d all smoked a joint, so of course I was the master of all s’mores, and had to tell you all the intricacies of how they’re made. You told me to keep the cinnamon a secret, to fuck with everyone.”

“Oh shit,” Arthur said. “They were good! So good! Thank god, I can’t believe I forgot those.”

“Yeah. They were alright. And um…then Gwaine said something stupid about you winning the contest, and that set Will off…”

“Oh,” said Arthur. “Oh, yeah. Oh, shit. And we all tried to calm him down but he just wouldn’t. And then you – and then – ah.”

Merlin studied his fingernails. “Anyway I don’t know what happened after that, because I left.”

“We all did,” Arthur said. “None of us wanted to look at his stupid face anymore, he was way out of line. I went after you, didn’t I?”

“Mhmm,” Merlin said.

“And that’s when we talked?”

“Yep.”

“About my dad.”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“The Saucepan. And my mum, and Gaius, and how he helped raise us both.”

“Magritte!”

“Yeah,” said Merlin, smiling. “Yeah, you surprised me.”

“Impressed you, I think.”

Merlin shook his head, “Sure,” he said. He was beginning to feel weak with the knowledge of what would eventually come to Arthur’s mind.

“You told me your dad left when you were a kid.”

“And you told me your mum made your dad a different person.”

Arthur nodded. “And then we laughed about my dad trying to parent,” he said, laughing. “I’m sorry about the nightmares.”

Merlin just nodded, wanting nothing more than to bolt.

“And then I asked if your mum was cool about it, and…oh, right. I asked if you liked girls.”

Merlin nodded along, watching his sneaker tap the white hospital tile with anxiety.

“Sorry,” Arthur said, “I can be pretty blunt when I’m…well, when I’ve had a blunt.”

“’S fine,” Merlin managed.

“And then…did I really ask…and then…”

Arthur trailed off. Merlin held his breath. Interminable seconds passed.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Am…did…”

“Yep.”

“So that wasn’t a fever dream.”

Merlin’s head snapped up. Arthur’s face was red, and he was picking at a thread in the hospital blanket.

“I don’t…think so,” Merlin said.

Arthur shook his head. “I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable –”

“Don’t,” Merlin said, standing with the urgency of it. “Don’t…do that. Don’t make a big deal out of it. It was just a guy thing that happened in the dunes when we were buzzed. Don’t make it weird. Please.”

“Okay,” Arthur said at length. “Yeah, okay.”

Merlin nodded. “Good.” He couldn’t bring himself to sit down again. He was just trying to think of a way to leave without being awkward when Arthur spoke again.

“It actually makes sense,” he said.

“How?”

“I...hmm. Well. A bit ago you asked why I was…uncomfortable.”

“Yeah?”

Arthur cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve been in here almost a week now, like this,” he said. “And I couldn’t understand why I’ve felt so…antsy. And, well, it’s started to get a bit embarrassing when the nurses come in in the mornings.”

Merlin’s brow furrowed. “I don’t follow.”

“I can’t use my hands?” Arthur said. “For anything? At all? And it’s been a week. And we were interrupted, before. So I’ve been having certain dreams, which –”

“Oh,” Merlin said, cottoning on. A flash of the dark beach jumpstarted his heart and he sat down hard on the arm of a chair. “Got it.”

“Yeah,” Arthur said.

“Shit, I’m…sorry. That sucks.”

Arthur nodded, looking out the window.

“How long until your arms are alright again?”

Arthur shrugged. “Couple weeks for my left, couple months for my right.”

“Jesus.”

Arthur nodded again.

“And you…there’s no…I mean there has to be a girl who could, like help? I’m sorry I said that, it was weird.”

Arthur snorted. “Yeah it was, but it would be even worse if I went, ‘Hey, girl I barely know, I’ve got a favor to ask.’”

“True,” Merlin said. “I was just trying to help.”

A lightbulb came on in Merlin’s mind. He immediately tried to switch it off, as it was the absolute worst idea known to humankind. Arthur was his friend. Arthur needed help. But Merlin could not help him, in this case. He absolutely could not. It would be very, very weird. And there was the shameful fact that he suddenly wanted to more than he could remember wanting anything in his life. For a moment his mind was a war between wanting to help, desperation to touch Arthur, and hating himself for being so creepy. But Arthur remembered everything. He’d been the one to bring it up at the beach. He couldn’t think it was all that bizarre, between friends. Merlin threatened himself out of it with thoughts of a cold, lonely future, and left before he could change his mind.

The idea, however, stuck. Falling asleep that night proved difficult, and once he did finally achieve real sleep, his dream was eerily vivid.

He dreamt he stood in Arthur’s hospital room. All the ward’s lights were off, and his door was closed. Arthur had fallen asleep reading by the light of a table lamp. Dream-Merlin smiled and picked the book up to set it on the side table.

“20th Century Personalities: The Artists Who Shaped the Modern World,” he murmured. “I didn’t even have to read this at uni, smarty-pants.”

“Impressed again?”

Merlin jumped. The Arthur in his dream was grinning at him groggily. “I suppose,” Merlin said. He looked at Arthur searchingly. “I do hope you’re okay,” he mused.

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Dream-Arthur, sitting up straighter. “Just, you know, uncomfortable.”

“Right,” Merlin sighed. “Can’t help but feel it’s my fault.”

“It pretty much is,” said Arthur.

“Ah…okay. Well I wish I could help. I really do.”

“You’re a dear, Merlin, but wishing helps no man.”

A laugh burst from Merlin’s mouth. His dream world was in soft-focus, and he felt oddly dizzy. “True,” he said. “What if Gwen helped?”

“Gwen?”

“She is your wife, Arthur.”

“Oh, right. Yes. Wait. Was my wife,” Arthur said, frowning.

“Was?” Merlin said. He thought hard. “I guess that’s right. Depending on when we are.”

“Depending on when I am. When we…” Arthur trailed off. “Why don’t you assist your king?”

“Oh,” Merlin said. “Is that when we are?”

“Always, one only hopes,” Arthur said, smirking.

 “Thank god. But you should know,” Merlin rushed out, his neck feeling hot. “I’m not…I’ve…it’ll be a new angle for me, now.”

Arthur considered this. “Not if you sit behind,” he said, starting to scoot himself forward.

“True,” he said, sure that his entire face must now be red, but unsure why.

Arthur looked up at him and did a double take. “Oh, I missed this,” he said. “This is the best part.”

“What?” Merlin snapped.

“You. All shy and virginal.”

“Oi!”

Arthur laughed, and the sound came in and out of focus.

Merlin shook his head and went over to him, awkwardly trying to straddle the bed between the raised half and the backs of the railings. He eventually settled into the tiny space between Arthur and the inclined half, his hips pressed between Arthur’s arse and the thin mattress. His magic roiled and the dream went out of focus for a moment. Insane sparks that were not magic jumped in his stomach and up his spine. Any increase in contact felt unnecessarily obscene. He wished he could forego breathing, in an attempt to disappear entirely.

“Just pretend you’re at home,” Arthur said, turning to look at him. “That seemed to work at the beach. Just. Do what you normally do. What we normally do. At home.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said. He unclenched his hands. They’d been here before.

“Here,” Arthur said, rucking up his hospital gown with his cumbersome arms.

Merlin’s heart was pounding out of his chest. He reached his right hand beneath Arthur’s arm and around to his front, resting his fingertips lightly on Arthur’s thigh to use it as a guide. He didn’t think either of them were breathing. He brushed his hand inward, skimming along Arthur’s skin until he reached the soft corner of his hip. Over, then, until he felt hair, and then solid flesh. Arthur was already hard.  Merlin’s breath came back all at once, quick and shallow.

“Sorry,” he said, drawing his hand back slightly and looking around for something. “My – my hand is dry.”

“Here, let me,” Arthur said. He used his splinted arm to nudge Merlin’s hand upward, licking a wet strip along his palm. Merlin became very suddenly and painfully hard, and he found he couldn’t move.

“Was that weird?” Arthur said after a breathless pause.

“Yeah, a bit,” Merlin said, and they were both laughing nervously. “But also, no, it wasn’t.”

Feeling slightly less dazed, Merlin wrapped his hand straight around Arthur’s dick, and Arthur went completely still. Merlin dragged his fist gently up to the tip and down again. Slowly, he repeated the motion. Arthur’s shoulders rose and fell more quickly in front of him. Merlin kept up the slow pace while ever so gradually tightening his hold, and as he did so, Arthur’s posture softened until his entire back pressed Merlin to the bed.

Merlin could feel Arthur’s heartbeat in his own chest now, so much more intimate and real than his tenuous magical tie alone. He focused on it, trying to move the tangle of his magic to the back of his mind so he could concentrate. It didn’t quite work. He could feel it rushing to the surface at every contact point with Arthur’s skin. Arthur was just shorter than him, so he could also see his own hand at work if he glanced downward, but his eyes were having a hard time focusing. Arthur’s knees were sprawled gloriously wide over Merlin’s, and his cock was hard and red in Merlin’s own hand. He was never going to forget the sight. He was never going to forget the sight again.

Having established a lazy but firm stroke, Merlin added a twist and a swipe of his thumb over the head. Arthur’s breath hissed through his teeth and his hips squirmed. Merlin bit his lip at the feel of Arthur moving between his legs. As he continued, Arthur devolved further into desperation, his hips moving more widely, his head eventually dropping back onto Merlin’s shoulder, eyes closed.

“ _Ngh_ ,” came the first sound from Arthur’s mouth. Merlin bit his lip harder, focusing on the pain. He’d imagined himself begging this from Arthur, and here he was, given it freely. This was so strangely familiar, like words to a song he could almost remember.

“… _Fuck_ ,” Arthur said. His breathing was quick, open-mouthed. Merlin watched his ecstatic expression from the corner of his eye. Arthur’s lips were full and red, his cheeks pink, a sheen of sweat beginning on his face and neck. Everything in him, magic or otherwise, was screaming to kiss him, but something stopped him. It was a dream, he told himself. He didn’t want to dream that. He didn’t want that to be a dream.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur moaned. Merlin thought he might have a coronary then and there. At least he was already at the Dream-hospital. “Come on.”

“What?” Merlin whispered. His own name in Arthur’s desperate voice still echoed in his head. “What is it?”

“ _Uh_ …more,” Arthur said. “Like…the beach. The tent. Our bed.”

Merlin thought back, trying to remember a time before this moment, his brain mechanically faltering.

“ _Please_ ,” Arthur breathed, and Merlin remembered. He unclenched his left hand from its white-knuckle grip on the bedrail, and slid it under Arthur’s sprained wrist. He rubbed the base of Arthur’s shaft gently in time with his right hand’s strokes before moving farther down to caress Arthur’s balls.

“ _Shiiiit_ …” Arthur breathed. Then Merlin moved on, rubbing at Arthur’s perineum with his middle finger, keeping his thumb at work on his balls.

Arthur’s every breath was a gasp now, and the fingers of his left hand grasped at Merlin’s knee.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Arthur repeated. Merlin picked up the pace, his chest beginning to hurt from trying to contain his wild heart. His magic flooded him, and Arthur turned his head to bury his face in Merlin’s neck. He came with the most obscene moaning shout Merlin had ever heard. He was sure somebody must have heard it in real life, somewhere. On the moon, probably. He pulled Arthur through the aftershocks, wanting to run away from it all before he woke up from this.

Eventually, Arthur’s hips calmed and his body went boneless. Merlin felt totally submerged in magic, and thought for sure Arthur would feel it too. He wasn’t sure if that was bad or not. It was either catastrophic or just comfortable. He couldn’t remember. For a moment, though, Arthur just breathed against Merlin’s throat. Merlin ignored his own needs and his fear and his uncertainty and tried to save that tiny moment for himself, to take out and look at someday when the world felt dim. And then, quietly, Arthur spoke.

“I owe you one,” he said, practically humming. “Stay?”

“I will,” said Merlin, brushing the hair from Arthur’s forehead. “For now.”

Merlin woke in the bed in his small flat gradually, bothered by a persistent feeling in his groin. When he opened his eyes to the familiar, drab popcorn ceiling, he felt a hot rush of shame. He reached down and came in two sharp pulls, face buried in his pillow. As he got his breath back, his magic retreated back beneath his skin. He blinked up at the ceiling, wondering if he’d ever recover from this.

 

His first visit with Arthur after the dream, Merlin tugged at the knot in his chest until the magic tether between them slithered free. He didn’t know if it had anything to do with the previous night, but he didn’t want to wait and find out. He was scared it was going to hurt one or both of them, but he felt only mild discomfort, and Arthur didn’t so much as fidget. He immediately felt less alien and less of a stalker, no longer able to sense Arthur’s very heart.

“You alright today?” Merlin asked, just to make sure.

“Yeah,” Arthur said, his smile wide and easy. “I feel good. Comfortable.”

“That’s good,” Merlin said.

“Not uncomfortable, like I was the other night.”

“Oh,” Merlin said, blinking. “Right. Good. Mhmm.”

“I fell asleep reading and had a very vivid dream that, er, eased my mind.”

Merlin flinched. “Good,” he said. “Good. I gotta go back to the shop,” he said, standing and practically running out the door.

He spent a good day and a half refusing to think about what this could mean. Once he did, he tried to convince himself it was a coincidence. It was normal for guys to have wet dreams. Vivid ones. At the same time. Eventually, that line of thought failed and was replaced with horror and self-disgust. His magic had never touched people’s minds before, and the implications were staggering. He didn’t want to accidentally mind-control anybody or telegraph his thoughts across the city by mistake. He briefly considered hermitage, before reasoning out that the golden leash must have been the source of it. He just had to never do that again, and he’d be safe. Probably. He hoped.

In the weeks that followed, Arthur was sent home to convalesce. Merlin couldn’t bring himself to see Arthur alone, but neither could he stay away. Sometimes he dragged Will with him, and others he just followed Lance or Gwaine from the shop all the way to Arthur’s house. If by chance they did end up in the same room without a human buffer, Arthur acted no different than he ever had, and yet Merlin felt the tips of his ears burning. He couldn’t sit still. He zeroed in on the distance between the two of them, willing it to disappear. Worst of all, as ever, was his magic. It sloshed and burned its way up his throat, grappling with words Merlin could never say out loud. He didn’t know which was more urgent: his sudden need to tell Arthur all about his magic, or the horror of him ever finding out.

“Why can’t you just go,” Will whined one day as they made the hot trudge up the hill to the palatial Pendragon home. He was still sandy from the beach – he hadn’t yet decided if he was going to give up entirely on surfing professionally or not. Merlin was hoping he’d realize soon that he loved surfing, but not competing.

“It’s nicer with more people, don’t you think?” Merlin said. “Wouldn’t you wanna know lots of people wanted to see you?”

Will glared at him. “I don’t want to see anybody four times a week. ‘Specially not you,” he said, shoving at Merlin’s head. Merlin shoved him back. Everything seemed almost easy in these moments, now that he and Will were just stupid boys again. His magic was quieter.

“Really though,” Will said, dropping his attitude. “It’s like impulsive or whatever, don’t think I don’t notice.”

Merlin clenched his teeth. Sometimes if he ignored Will long enough, he’d get distracted and let things go. They passed a few steps in silence.

“Is it like, you feel awkward just you and him? Because of feelings or something?” And sometimes he wouldn’t. Merlin thought feverishly of some plausible reason he could feed him.

“Or what, you’d jump his bones or something if you got him alone?” Will smirked.

Merlin shoved Will again, a little too hard. “Fuck off,” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

“Oh I see,” Will said. “Oh Arthur yeah touch me just like –”

Merlin clapped a hand over Will’s mouth and forced him into a sheltered break between hedges.

“Shut up, god,” he said. “Don’t be a dick, there’s people around.”

Will was just staring at him with wide eyes. Merlin took his hand away and stood as far back as the small space would allow.

“Shit, Merlin,” Will said.

“Shut up.”

“ _Shit_.”

“Shut _up_ , alright? It’s not funny.”

“Yeah it fuckin’ is,” Will said, revving up again. “I always knew you had a hard-on for him, always mooning at him from a distance. Granted he moons at you just about as much, but he’s not – wait,” Will said, stricken by some new thought.

“What,” Merlin said, uneasy. Will had rare moments of almost extra-sensory perceptiveness.

“You haven’t,” Will started. He paused. “You already _did it_!” His face was a mask of horror and glee.

“No,” Merlin said firmly. “No, Will, it’s not like that, don’t –”

“Shitting hell, Merlin! What did you _do_? No! I didn’t mean it that way, don’t fuckin’ tell me, that’s sick, holy shit, you and _Arthur_ –”

“Will STOP,” Merlin said. Will fell silent. Merlin rubbed his aching head. “It’s really, really not like that. Don’t be ridiculous alright?”

The excitement faded from Will’s face. He crossed his arms. “But you wish it was.”

Merlin sighed and shook his head. “Let’s just go home.” He sidled out from between the hedges and started back down the hill. He didn’t think he could look Arthur in the face anymore.

Will caught him up. “It’s true, you know,” he said. “Except I’ve only just now put the pieces together.”

“What?”

“He looks at you. Constantly.” Will draped his arm over Merlin’s shoulders.

Merlin snorted. “So do the old women in the shops who hide their purses when they see me.”

Will scrunched up his nose. “That doesn’t happen, Merlin. You’re about as threatening as a purple-splotched kitten. I’m serious.”

Merlin stopped short, a thought tugging at the edge of his mind. “Since when?”

“What?”

“Since when does he look at me?”

“I dunno,” said Will. “Since this whole summer.”

“Okay,” Merlin said. “Jesus.” He sat down hard on a garden wall, his head in his hands.

“What, peeved you’ve missed out on all this boning time?” Will asked, making lewd gestures.

“No,” Merlin said. He stood up and started walking. “I’ve gotta go home. To mum’s.”

“What?” said Will, staring at him. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know,” said Merlin, stopping short again and pacing back and forth, scrubbing his hand through his hair. “I think…yeah I have to leave. But I can’t just disappear…”

“Merlin,” said Will. Merlin didn’t even look at him. Will grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around. “MERLIN. What in hell is happening in that stupid brain of yours?”

“I think my magic is doing something to Arthur. Enchanting him. Something.”

“What?” Will laughed. “You think you’re bewitching him? You sod, you’re not as hot as you think if –”

“No, I am,” Merlin said. “My magic, whenever he’s been anywhere near me the whole summer, my magic freaks out. Practically tries to kill me, I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just reacting to me being stupid or if it’s something else. And then…oh, god. This is awful. This is. This is awful. I’m awful. I should be arrested.”

“Don’t be stupid – why?” Will said, suddenly suspicious. “Did you do something?”

“I think I made him have a dream.”

“Ew, Merlin,” Will said. “Ew, don’t just say shit like that.”

“I know,” said Merlin, his eyes unfocused, staring into space. “I know, I’m a monster.”

“What? Merlin, no,” said Will. “No, stop. Stop stop stop. You’re – this whole thing – you’re jumping to conclusions.”

Merlin was just shaking his head mutely. Will watched him closely for a moment before straightening.

“Right,” he said, clapping his hands together. He marched off in the direction of Arthur’s house.

“Where are you – what are you doing?” Merlin called, jogging to catch up.

“Telling him everything, to see what he thinks.”

“What? Will, no. You can’t do that.”

“Why not? It’s not like he’s going to turn you in to the government for experimentation. And if you’ve actually been fucking with his head, he has a right to know, right? Right.”

“Will, please, don’t,” pleaded Merlin.

Will stopped. “No seriously, why not? Think about it.”

Merlin paused and considered. “Because then he’ll know I’m awful.”

Will rolled his eyes. “And you prance off back to uni. Big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me.”

“Then man up,” said Will. “You tell him. Tell him everything. Apologize, whatever. Let him decide what’s happening and what’s awful.”

Merlin shook his head for a long moment before finally nodding. They walked up to the house together.

Once in Arthur’s room, Will closed the door, then nodded encouragingly at Merlin.

He cleared his throat. “Arthur,” Merlin said, then paused.

“Hello to you too,” said Arthur, with a lopsided grin.

Merlin cleared his throat again. “Arthur, I have something to tell you. And it’s going to sound crazy, but Will is going to vouch for me.”

“Alright,” said Arthur, looking between them suspiciously.

“I, um,” said Merlin. He was sweating. His throat was dry. His necklace was practically burning his skin. “I sort of have magic.”

Arthur snorted. Merlin focused on the shelf of trophies on the adjacent wall, concentrating hard as they all rose into the air and switched places. Arthur’s mouth dropped open.

“He’s got magic,” reiterated Will.

“How…how?” Arthur said. “And…how long?”

“I don’t know,” said Merlin. He felt on the edge of tears. “And it just started happening this summer. Nothing weird has ever happened before.”

Will made a noise.

“Nothing weird like this,” Merlin amended. “Gaius told me…he told me he wasn’t surprised. And that your father is right, somehow.”

Arthur was staring at him, dumbstruck.

“And I think…I think I’ve been – accidentally – using it on you.”

“What?” Arthur said, startled.

“Well, you said…you said you had a dream. A vivid dream. That time. And I did too, that same night. And I think I…made you have it? I…I don’t know. It’s been weird around you, the magic, all summer, and I’m afraid it’s been messing with you. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I should have realized, I should have known the way you were acting around me couldn’t be…anyway,” Merlin stopped himself. He was crying in fits and starts now, and hated himself the more for it. He scrubbed the tears off his face. “I apologize for…any harm,” he finished, then turned and left.

He ran all the way back to his flat without looking back.

 

Without his constant visits with Arthur, Merlin no longer knew what to do with himself, and it was around this time that the dreams became ceaseless. He tossed and turned every night, but in the mornings he would wake with only vague images of forests, darkened stone rooms, and the faces of his friends. He tried leaving the necklace farther and farther away from his bed, but it didn’t help. He deeply wanted to know more, to remember more, to know just how much he’d ruined by breaking up their stupid re-forged fellowship. He wanted to go back and fix things. But he knew his dreams were just fragmented echoes of something that might have once been real.

He spent more and more of his free time in the shop, putting in un-clocked hours just so he didn’t have to sit still. He tried to channel his frazzled magic into tasks, with varying degrees of success. The improvements he’d made over the months since it had appeared were still mostly intact, even though most of his control was now shot. Now it was less like navigating a small wave and more like riding a massive one.

Eventually, Will went home. It was unclear whether he was merely visiting his mother or if he was moving out permanently, but either way Merlin would be following him soon. His mum had demanded he come to stay for a week before going back to university.

“See you in a week?” Merlin had said, handing him his duffel.

“I’ll be there,” said Will.

“Good,” said Merlin. And Will had folded him into a hug.

“Be careful,” he’d said into Merlin’s ear. “And talk to Arthur.”

Will had been trying to get him to do this for weeks now, trying to assure him that Arthur didn’t hate him. But Merlin still hated himself.

Will’s leaving made Merlin quite completely alone, but for the first time, the flat was his. He spent a lot more time just lying about and a lot less time cleaning up after Will, and decided that he very much liked living alone. That is, he would like it, if not for his brain’s constant preoccupation with Arthur. He desperately wanted to see him, to know how he was getting on, to hear that big stupid laugh of his. But there was just about no force on earth that could make him seek him out again. Will had tried to convince him he was overreacting, but to no avail.

Late one night, as he was repainting an old board, Gaius came in and started to work on the sawhorse next to him. He didn’t like the idea of Gaius not being able to get enough sleep, but decided not to nag. They could discuss it later if Gaius seemed to be getting more tired.

“You know, I’ve never had to worry about you much until this summer,” Gaius said.

“I’m…sorry?” said Merlin. “Hasn’t really been my fault though,” he mumbled.

“Yes and it has,” Gaius snapped. “You were doing fine when it was just magically sanding things. Wasn’t like you were off your head, running around magicking people’s hair off.”

“Well it wasn’t too much of a problem then,” said Merlin, “I could handle it.”

“And when, exactly, did it become un-handle-able?” Gaius asked, hands on hips.

Merlin shrugged. “’Round Arthur,” he said. “You know. The King or whatever. Gets all weird.”

Gaius pursed his lips. “Be more specific.”

“It jumps about and gets all big and reaches out to do things without permission!” Merlin said. “It’s exhausting to keep it from doing stupid stuff!”

“Specifics,” Gaius repeated.

“Just dumb things,” Merlin said, not looking at him.

“Around Arthur,” Gaius said.

Merlin shrugged again, going back to work.

“I see,” Gaius said. “And this is why you’ve stopped talking to everyone in the round table, then?”

Merlin pulled a face.

“Have you told Arthur what’s happening?”

“Yes,” Merlin said. “Will made me. So I don’t owe anybody any more explanations.”

“Well what did Arthur think?”

Merlin threw his hands up. “That I’m a loon. A creep. A freak. Don’t want to know, really, we’d been getting on really well before that. I actually would really like to forget about all of it, if you don’t mind. I’m leaving next week anyway.”

“I do mind young man,” Gaius said. “Your mother raised you better than this.”

Merlin stopped and looked at him, his jaw clenched. “Better than what?”

“A coward.”

“Well, I guess she didn’t,” Merlin said. He threw down his tools and made to walk away.

“Merlin!” Gaius shouted. Merlin froze. “How can you let your fear of embarrassment come between you and the most important things in your life?”

Merlin rubbed his forehead. His head hurt, and his magic was throwing itself around his stomach.

“I barely know Arthur,” Merlin said.

“I meant family,” Gaius said gently. “I meant me.”

Merlin turned to look at the man who had helped raise him. Gaius’s face was creased with long-worn worry, and his eyes were soft with sadness.

“I’m sorry Gaius,” he said. He let out a heavy breath. “I’m so sorry.”

“Come here, m’boy,” Gaius said.

Merlin went over and hugged him. As Gaius patted his back, he felt tears rolling over his cheeks.

“I just don’t want to be afraid of myself,” Merlin said. “I just don’t want to accidentally hurt anyone. ‘Specially…not Arthur.”

“I know my boy, I know,” Gaius said. He held Merlin out at arm’s length. “It’s too much for a boy to handle on his own. I know. But you don’t have to. You have people who care about you. All you have to do is let them.”

Merlin nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Yeah.”

Gaius patted his shoulder gruffly. “And that means Arthur too, if he likes.”

Merlin closed his eyes.

“He’s got a right to decide who he cares about.”

“Yeah he does,” said Merlin. “Which is why I don’t want to go near him.”

Gaius shook his head. “In the lore, King Arthur needed Merlin even more than Merlin needed him.”

Merlin shook his head more vigorously.

“Merlin,” Gaius said. “Look at me.”

Merlin met his eyes.

“Respect him enough to let him decide.”

At length, Merlin nodded.

 

Summer deepened into its stickiest, hottest days, and Merlin began to pack his things to go. Unsure if he’d be coming back to stay at Newcastle again, he took care not to forget anything, in between his shifts at the shop. On one of his rare days off, a knock came at his door. He’d been sprawled on the couch playing melancholy songs on his guitar and procrastinating, and he hadn’t left the apartment all day. The clock said it was later than he’d thought. He got up to answer the knock, rubbing the lazy blur from his eyes, mentally preparing himself for whomever had come to ask him to come down and help out.

Instead, he opened the door to Arthur, who smiled winningly at him. Merlin shrank back, scrabbling to hush his suddenly excited magic, painfully aware of how mussed his hair must be.

“George told me you’d be up here,” Arthur said. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course,” said Merlin, stepping to the side to let him in. “George said words to you?” he asked, recovering from the shock. “Wait, George acknowledged I exist?”

Arthur chuckled. “I was shocked as you,” he said. “Were you playing that?” he asked, his eye catching on the guitar.

“Ah, yeah,” Merlin said, avoiding looking at him. “But just like…not anything good.”

Arthur shot him a look. “I doubt that,” he said. “Always full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Merlin half smiled despite himself.

“This place is great,” Arthur said, looking around. Merlin would have laughed if he weren’t so on edge. It was an old couch and two chairs with a small makeshift kitchen. Smaller than Arthur’s bedroom. “When I was a kid it was just storage up here. Did Gaius do this?”

“Yeah, we sort of did it as a project a few summers back,” Merlin said. “We really only cleaned it out and painted, but it’s come in handy, having a place.”

“I wish I had my own place to go,” Arthur said.

Merlin nodded. “I’d probably be all angsty and unbearable without it,” he said. He caught himself slipping into their familiar way of talking and snapped himself out of it before either of them got stuck in a conversation. He would be polite, but he wouldn’t make him feel obligated to stay. “Was there something you needed, or…?”

“Hey, do you still have roof access from here?” Arthur said, excited.

“Uh, yeah…” Merlin had kept the roof secret even from Will. “But it’s just…a roof…”

“I used to go up there all the time. Can I see it?”

“Sure, if you want,” Merlin said, picturing little Arthur left to his own devices and discovering the rooftop years before Merlin had made it his own. It was sad in a way you didn’t expect from Arthur, but Merlin had glimpsed it before. He led the way through the door hidden in his own bedroom and up the stairs behind it.

“Your room’s a mess,” Arthur said. “Couldn’t you just…” He waved his arms around.

Merlin shrugged. “I like it the way it is. Besides, I’m packing at the moment.”

“Oh,” said Arthur, pausing on the stair. “When do you go back?”

“I go to mum’s this weekend for a bit, then go on.”

“Cutting it close then, aren’t I?”

“Er. I suppose,” Merlin said, as he pushed open the heavy door to the roof and stood aside to let Arthur pass. Arthur’s face lit up with surprise. He whistled.

“It definitely didn’t look like this when I was eight,” he said.

Merlin had worked on this space steadily over the past three years. The main thing was that he’d lain down some concrete paving stones to make a large, even area in one of the corners and covered them with layers of blankets and pillows. He’d brought up and assembled a cheap table and a chair as well, and sometimes ate breakfast up here. This summer he’d nailed wooden dowels to the walls and strung fairy lights and two large lanterns between them, and considered the work done. He’d wanted to keep it completely to himself, but it felt good to impress somebody else with his handiwork. Really good.

“View’s the same though,” Merlin said, going to lean against the chest-height wall that bordered the entire roof. Arthur joined him.

“Yeah,” he said. His smile was much softer than Merlin was used to. “It is.”

The day had been hot, but the evening was perfectly cool in the rooftop breeze. The sun had only just gone down; the sky was still dusky and bright. The view of the city wasn’t extraordinary from such a low vantage point, but the ocean was just visible between buildings. Merlin resisted the sigh that rose in his throat, but let his magic play through his limbs, enjoying the thrill of such a stolen moment with Arthur.

“You should probably go,” he said at length.

After a moment, Arthur spoke. “I did want something, a few things, actually,” Arthur began.

“Mhmm?” Merlin prompted. Whatever it was he was more than ready to agree. He’d done plenty of free board labor on his own time already, and he was about to leave town anyway, if that’s what it was.

“Have you been avoiding me?” Arthur asked instead.

“What?” said Merlin. “Um. Basically yes?”

“Because of the magic thing?”

“Yes,” Merlin said. “Because of the magic thing.”

“And no other reason?”

Merlin scrunched up his face. “Uh, no, for no reason other than that I’m pretty sure I screwed with your head. Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here.”

Arthur tilted his head and looked at him. He shrugged. “Just haven’t seen much of you lately.”

Merlin huffed out a breath. This was ridiculous. “Are you not – did you not hear me?”

“Yeah, but Will and I talked after you left. And then I talked with Gaius. We’re all pretty sure you’re overreacting.”

Merlin made a frustrated sound and stalked off to sit at his table.

“You see, you said your magic started up this summer,” Arthur said strolling casually over to take the other chair. “And the thing is, I had a crush on you way before that.”

Merlin’s eyes closed and he shook his head. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Yeah, I know, I really sucked at showing it when we were kids. I was having a rough time and all, but I like to think I turned out alright, don’t you think?”

Merlin blinked at him.

Arthur shrugged. “So your whole timeline’s off, mate.” He leaned back in the chair. “I preempted you. You didn’t screw with my head, my head was already screwed.”

Merlin shook his head again. “I – I don’t think. I still think that this summer has been…”

“Pretty amazing, all things considered,” Arthur said, smiling into the sunset. He looked Merlin in the eye. “I didn’t do anything this summer that wasn’t my choice. I didn’t do anything this summer that I didn’t enjoy. Except, you know, almost dying. Which apparently you played a bigger role in preventing than I was previously told.”

Merlin was still shaking his head.

“I’ve been having dreams, Merlin,” Arthur said, suddenly serious. “My whole life. When I saw six I dreamed I rode a dragon. I hadn’t ever been near you then. I dreamed I had a sister who tried to murder me. And last year I dreamed I died…in your arms.”

Merlin pressed the heels of his hands against his burning eyes.

“I’m just glad to know I wasn’t the only one. I mean, that I’m not crazy. Or alone. Because, like something Gaius said, I think that’s the only thing it all means. That we’re not alone. I’m pretty sure that’s what it’s all for. Because the first time I saw you, back when we were kids, my only thought was _finally_.”

Merlin stood abruptly and went back over to the low wall. He looked out at the city he knew and could practically see, layered just beneath the concrete and steel, a proud, old castle. Arthur came to stand next to him.

“I don’t know what to say. Or what to think,” Merlin said. “I just never wanted to…I never wanted any of this to be a lie. So I was terrified that it was.”

Arthur nodded. “I really don’t think it is. Is that insane?”

A seagull feather drifted past on the evening breeze, and Merlin swept it up with his magic, sending it dancing around their heads, bringing it to rest on his fingertip.

Arthur wore a wondering smile. “Showoff,” he said.

Something very large shifted and settled behind Merlin’s chest. The relief was immediate and shocking, as if he’d been carrying all this extra weight and hadn’t noticed till he set it down. He shrugged, almost able to smile, but still unused to this new climate of trust.

“It’s weird. To be able to show someone,” Merlin said. “It’s weird to do it at all.”

“I think it’s brilliant,” Arthur said. He grinned and ruffled Merlin’s hair. “Leave it to you to streamline boards for Gaius’s rep. Ridiculous.”

“Hey, what am I supposed to do?” Merlin said, trying to pat his hair back into submission.

“Oh, I dunno, some people might make themselves rich and famous?” He bumped Merlin’s shoulder with his, sending a jolt through Merlin’s entire arm.

“You wouldn’t,” Merlin said, well aware that he was mooning at him and unable to do anything about it.

Arthur shrugged. “Dunno what I’d do. Probably something stupid like try to fly.”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“So you’re okay then?” Arthur asked. “You’re not going to freak out anymore? Not gonna run screaming into the night because you think you’re controlling my brain?”

Merlin shrugged. “For the moment.”

 “Well in that case…. My arms are pretty much healed. I mean they’re sort of weak, but they’re functional for sure,” he said.

“So you’ll be surfing again?” Merlin finished for him.

“Uh, probably,” Arthur said, “I guess yeah, but what I mean is, I don’t really like owing anybody anything.”

Merlin looked at him, his brow scrunched. “Owe who what?” he said.

“You,” Arthur said. “From the dream in the hospital.”

Merlin’s head jerked back at the direct mention of the event. He had worked very hard to avoid all thought of it, as forgetting was impossible. The memory crept in at the corners of his mind when he was alone, reigniting the low burn in his belly. “Uh,” he said.

“I said I owed you one, remember?”

Merlin cleared his throat. “Yes. A favor. That generally means I owe you a _favor of your choosing_ , Arthur,” he said, feeling like he was losing his grip on himself and his magic entirely.

Arthur shrugged. “I was being specific. I don’t want to be that guy that left someone hanging. Not like that.”

Merlin drew his lips between his teeth and breathed carefully through his nose. He didn’t want this, he kept telling himself. He would have to leave for school and Arthur would travel the world and forget him and they’d never see each other again. Despite this, he felt a saccharine pang in his chest. Trust Arthur to find the most twisted definition of honor. He must have inherited that, somehow, from his father. Merlin suddenly saw a flash of the older Arthur from his dreams wielding a sword. Merlin closed his eyes. Or Arthur could have inherited it from that. Either way it was sickeningly endearing.

Merlin shook his head. “I’m going to ask you a different favor,” Merlin said.

Arthur dropped his head to look down into the street. “Alright,” he said.

“This is the favor: if you don’t want us to be anything more than friends, please never reference any of this again, and most importantly, never proposition me again. Ever. Please.”

Arthur turned to face him. It was growing dark, and Merlin’s fairy lights popped to life. Arthur’s face was lit warmly from the side, and Merlin found he could look at him like this, now that he’d said it.

“What if I kissed you right now?” Arthur said.

Merlin leaned away, startled. “Did you even hear –?”

“Because I want to, you idiot,” Arthur interrupted, grinning. “Because I’ve wanted to since the first day you showed up in the shop, and because I haven’t been able to get your mouth out of my head since I watched you on the beach that night.”

Some objective part of Merlin’s brain knew that his eyes had gone wide and that his entire body had flushed a deep, unattractive red, but the rest of his mind had ground to a stop. The only thing still going strong was his magic, which nudged his voice into action.

“Yeah,” he said weakly. “I reckon that’d be fine.”

Arthur leaned in and pressed his lips to Merlin’s, setting his hand lightly on the side of Merlin’s neck, his thumb beneath Merlin’s jaw. _Yes_ , Merlin thought. He felt the word echo through him like a thousand sighs. This was right. His magic died down, leaving him overfull of silence and Arthur’s kiss. Arthur drew back and looked at him. Merlin opened his eyes slowly.

“Why’d you stop?” he breathed.

Arthur huffed out a laugh and leaned in again, kissing him more insistently, taking Merlin’s bottom lip between his own and sucking lightly before releasing it. Merlin opened his mouth against Arthur’s, tasting at last those maddening, pink lips. He twisted his hands into the sides of Arthur’s shirt. Lightning slashed through his chest, an entirely different brand of magic. Arthur turned them suddenly and pinned Merlin to the wall with the length of his body, pressing deeper into the kiss, tasting Merlin’s tongue. Merlin felt something hard against his hip and laughed suddenly.

“What?” Arthur said, backing off just enough to speak, then ducking down to press wet kisses down Merlin’s neck.

“This is what you were after the whole time?” Merlin said, squeezing his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Arthur. His magic still sat quietly in the corner, content.

Arthur smiled, one hand gripping Merlin’s hip. “For years. Went about it the wrong way, didn’t I?” he said.

Merlin nodded and dove back into the kiss, which grew more heated as the understanding that this was really happening sank in. Soon the kiss was composed entirely of slow, thrusting tongues and grinding hips. Arthur slid a hand beneath Merlin’s shirt. A trail of gooseflesh rose in its wake. Then both of his hands were there at Merlin’s belt buckle.

“Can I now?” Arthur said, between heaving breaths. Merlin’s skin jolted where the backs of Arthur’s knuckles rested, just inside his waistband.

“Yes, Arthur, god,” Merlin panted, nodding to the jumble of cushions across the roof.

Arthur backed them over; their legs tangled and knees bumping, unwilling to part for the sparest of moments. They were laughing again, breathless little sounds between kisses, smiling lips pressed against smiling lips. Merlin felt as if he might burst at the seams with the pure joy of it as they fell into the soft heap.

Without his magic pounding in his head, Merlin found it much easier to concentrate on little things and save them up for later. Propped up on his elbows, he focused on the dimple of concentration between Arthur’s eyebrows as he undid Merlin’s jeans, or the way his soft blonde hair stuck up at odd angles, or the dark gold fringe of his eyelashes against his fine cheeks. Another wave of incredulous joy swept through him as he recognized that he might not need to keep a locked catalogue of these things in his mind. He might have them for real again and again. But then Arthur pushed Merlin’s jeans down and wrapped his warm hand around Merlin’s cock, and Merlin lost all ability to think clearly.

“ _Shit_ ,” Merlin breathed, his head falling back. He shut his eyes against the sudden brightness of the world. Arthur, lying on his side next to him, pressed a kiss to the corner of Merlin’s mouth. He moved his fist up and down slowly, as Merlin had done in the dream. When Arthur twisted his hand unexpectedly, Merlin’s arms buckled and he sank to the ground with a rushing exhale. Arthur followed him down, kissing him languorously. His hand moved more slowly.

“Shit, Merlin,” he said, pressing his forehead into Merlin’s shoulder. “My hand’s still weak. I don’t think…”

“It’s okay,” Merlin got out, when what he wanted to say was, “Please no don’t stop.”

Arthur made a frustrated noise, and his heat was suddenly gone. Merlin opened his eyes and lifted his head just in time to see Arthur drag his tongue the length of his dick. His breath caught painfully in his chest and his heart stuttered.

“A-Arthur,” he said, fully intending to actually say something. But then Arthur’s lips were tight around its head, and all he could do was try to keep his moan short. He twisted his hands into the fabric beneath him, holding on for dear life. Arthur’s tongue was firmly caressing him. Merlin tried to keep his eyes open to drink in this improbable moment, but as Arthur began to tentatively move his head up and down, Merlin’s eyes fell shut.

He moaned again as Arthur took him deeper, and his hips bucked without his permission. Arthur pressed his thumbs just below Merlin’s sharp hips and held them there as he worked his mouth down the shaft of Merlin’s cock. Merlin’s lungs began to work exclusively in great, shuddering gasps and he knew he was close. Just as he was about to warn Arthur, he pulled off.

He was breathing hard. “I’m sorry Merlin,” he said, “I’ve never, I can’t –”

“It’s okay,” Merlin breathed, fisting the front of Arthur’s shirt. “It’s okay, you didn’t have to, just come here.” He smashed their mouths together in a perfectly messy, disgusting kiss. His hands shook as he tried to get the laces of Arthur’s shorts undone, and he ended up ripping one of the eyelets out entirely. Arthur just kept kissing him blindly, holding himself on his elbows above him. Finally he jammed Arthur’s shorts down and dug his fingers into Arthur’s behind, pulling him down and thrusting up at once. Glorious, glorious friction.

“Fuck,” Arthur breathed, grinding down hard and slow. “Fuck, Merlin.”

“Come on,” Merlin said, both of his hands on Arthur’s arse now. He thought he might be having a heart attack again, but all he could think was more, more, more. He shifted his hips to the side slightly and their cocks touched.

“ _Ah_ ,” gasped Arthur, throwing his head back. Merlin surged upward to suck at the base of his throat, their hips pushing together, beyond anything Merlin had ever dreamed of feeling. Arthur’s mouth met his again, and Merlin slid one of his hands between them. It took him a few seconds to catch the right moment, but then his fingers pumped around both of them together and Arthur was moaning with each thrust. Merlin struggled to keep their mouths together, but lost the plot as the force of his orgasm gathered in his stomach.

“Arthur,” he breathed. His head tipped back, and Arthur’s face pressed into his neck. He shifted the hand on Arthur’s arse for a better grip, and one of his fingers brushed the pucker between his cheeks.

“Fuck,” came Arthur’s strangled groan. Merlin did it again.

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur sobbed as he came, shuddering.

The feel of Arthur’s stomach contracting against his fist pushed Merlin over the edge. He saw stars at the edges of his vision and came with a shout, which lengthened embarrassingly. He stroked them both together, his hips jerking erratically, until Arthur fell into the pillows at his side. For a long time they lay there, struggling to regain their breath.

“Jesus, Merlin,” Arthur said at length. “I mean, _shit_.”

Merlin huffed, and then laughed freely. He could hardly believe any of this, still. Arthur rolled over on top of Merlin’s arm and kissed him lazily.

He pulled back and looked down at him, his eyes searching. “Is it scary to say I feel like I’ve wanted to do that forever? Like, forever forever?”

Merlin swallowed hard and shook his head. “I…um. Me too. Yeah.”

Arthur kissed him again, deeply. “This feels…”

“Right,” Merlin finished. Arthur nodded and leaned back on his elbow.

“Still didn’t manage to get you off,” he said, looking down at him.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “You’re joking,” Merlin said. But he knew he wasn’t.

“Next time, I get you off,” Arthur said in a mock-strategic tone.

“Yes, sire,” Merlin barked with an exaggerated salute.

“Then the time after that, you fuck me.”

“ _Jes_ us,” Merlin said, clutching his chest. “You can’t just _say_ that to a person. I about had a coronary, _fuck me_.”

Arthur looked up, his expression considering. “Okay, we’ll do that too.”

Merlin was stunned into laughter and Arthur kissed him again. They lay there for a while longer, looking up through the fairy lights at the late summer stars.

 

Eventually, Merlin’s magic retreated entirely back into the dark place in which it seemed to live. Until, that is, one day when he was very old and very gray. It was years and years after introducing Arthur to his mum, and still decades after he was best man at Will’s wedding. But not long at all since he had lost Arthur to the sickness of old age. That day he felt a small, golden nudge prod his mind, and took the old dragon necklace into his hands. He whispered a strange, guttural word which he didn’t understand, and watched as the metal grew hot. As it faded away into nothing in his palm, he sent with it a silent prayer that someday, it would bring him his happiness again.


End file.
